The Rapier: The Forging of the Blade
by ChelleyBean
Summary: By Popular Demand and Author's Promise: Snape's POV. No comments from the peanut gallery about the long absence, please. It's been a rough few years.
1. Chapter One

_Dear Reader,_

_Here it is, the first chapter to Snape's POV.  He's an entirely different person, so I'll try to make it more like I picture him in the storyline that's been kicking around in my head.  I hope that you enjoy this take as much as you did the last one.  Don't be shy.  Tell it like it really is._

_Oh, there is one question that came across in the reviews I wanted to answer:  This storyline is completely separate from Antigone__.  Different way of hooking up the main characters, different circumstances surrounding their relationship, different everything.  And no time turners!_

_As always, I own nothing of the Harry Potter__ universe.  That all belongs to J.K. Rowling.  I only lay claim to this particular plotline.  For those of you who are new to The Rapier__, you might want to read A Fine Tension__ first.  You can find it here:  http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=980861_

_Love,_

_ChelleyBean_

**_The Rapier:  The Forging of the Blade_**

****

The peace and solitude of Hogwarts during the Christmas holiday was something he looked forward to every year.  After spending nearly four months attempting to hammer something useful into thick headed children, he needed the respite.  Each year he hoped that he would be given an abundance of brilliant, intelligent children with a thirst to learn, and each year only a few would live up to his requirements.  Were the truth to be told, he would be one of the happiest men alive should he be given a school of Ravenclaws with a few Hermione Grangers thrown in to keep up the standards.  As it was, Ravenclaw was only one house out of four and there was only one Hermione Granger.

The steel of his blade barely quivered as he gave a firm forward thrust.  Though he enjoyed his thrice weekly sessions with the young Gryffindor, he also enjoyed the chance to practice on his own.  It gave him time to ponder the different facets of life while at the same time he could work off some of the tension from which he always seemed to be suffering.  Likely only Albus truly understood what life demanded of Severus Snape.  He had to be the loyal Death Eater towards Voldemort and trusted crony of some of the least trustworthy wizards and witches in existence.  He was forced to praise substandard students simply because of their bloodlines and scorn talented minds for the same reason.  The façade he upheld drained him of patience and emotion.  It wasn't difficult to make yourself the most despised teacher in school when you had no kindness left in you to give.  He had been in danger of permanently becoming that cold, bitter man, until he had found her.

He paused at the end of a deep lunge, and smiled.  He had come across her within this very room, early in the school year.  He had just finished a conversation with Argus and was heading back towards the dungeons when he had noted that the door to the blade room had been standing open a few inches, a shadow moving from within.  He had been annoyed.  Though the room had been there long before he had even been a student, he had come to think of it as his own.  Lucius had joined him when they were boys, driven by an ever present need to compete and conquer, but had cast the pastime aside after graduation.  Now he kept his swords as nothing more than affectations, decorations for his study wall.  Severus had learned to fence from his father and had continued to keep in practice.  He had a love for the sport and its simplicity.  It was as deadly as it was beautiful and something that should only be shared with another who had the same love.  To have his private sanctuary invaded by a student was more than he could bear.  He had made his way to the room with every intention of telling the child off, whoever it may have been.  Nothing could have prepared him for what he found.

She had moved with the grace and balance of someone who had been born with a sword in her hand.  Experience had been in the lines of her body, though there was also a hint of how long it had been since she had practiced.  The shock of it being _that student had been nothing compared to the shock that she had obviously known what she was doing.  He had just stood and watched her, enraptured by the sight of her sparring with some memory only she knew.  It had taken a great force of will to interrupt her.  That she had turned with her blade at the ready spoke volumes about her knowledge of the conflict growing around her, even if she didn't realize it.  That she so quickly lowered it confirmed that it was still Miss Granger, shocked that she had threatened a teacher._

He hadn't been able to resist the chance to test her, to see just what she was made of.  Given that she was a good deal younger and with far fewer years of practice, he was not disappointed.  He admitted to himself that he had pushed her too far, still pushed her too hard even now, but she had never uttered a word of protest.  When offered the chance to meet with him on a regular basis she had jumped at it and the light in her eyes told him that this was someone who shared his own love.  He had been taking a risk, befriending the girl as he had done, but he was human in spite of what his students may believe.  By giving him someone with whom he would work out his frustrations and burn off the tension of his life, Hermione Granger was saving him from permanently becoming the bastard he pretended to be.  He doubted she would ever understand just how much he owed her.

He smiled, just an upturn at the corners of his mouth really, and made a quick flurry of moves.  The set brought him around to face the door, and he stopped as he noted he was no longer alone.  "That's a rather annoying habit you have, sneaking up on people in such a fashion."  He lowered his blade and flicked an errant lock of hair from his eyes.  "Good evening, Albus."

"Good evening, Severus.  I'm sorry to have startled you, but I was curious as to how long you could stay in that one position.  It didn't look very comfortable."  The wizard moved towards the wingback chair and sat down, peering at him through those half-moon spectacles he always wore.  "Missing your usual opponent?"

Severus gave an irritated sound and moved to place his sword back into its protective case.  "That's another annoying habit you have.  Is there anything within this school you don't know about?"

"If there was, I wouldn't be a very affective headmaster, now would I?"  When Severus turned back around to look at his old friend he noted the wizard was worrying something in his mouth, doubtless some sweet or another.  

"Is there something you need?  Are your joints acting up again?"

"No, nothing like that.  You brewed enough potion to last me through the winter, and I thank you for it.  I was merely walking the corridors and noticed you were in here."

"I see." He didn't pull his shirt on right away.  It was only Albus, not Miss Granger, so it didn't matter that he was clad only in his trousers, his hair pulled back.  He was sweating from his practice and didn't wish to wrestle with the fine muslin of his shirt just yet.  "How long have you known?"

"About your sparring sessions with Miss Granger?  Since shortly after they began.  I will admit I was surprised to learn that she was interested in such things.  I suppose, like yourself, she uses it to work out her troubles."  He opened a small pouch on his belt and took out one of those lemon drops he was so very fond of, popping it into his mouth.  "However, I should point out that Minerva has discovered your secret as well."

Severus bit back an oath.  "When?"

"This afternoon, I believe.  She's down in the dungeons looking for you.  I think she may be concerned.  Miss Granger may not be the most beautiful girl in Hogwarts, but she is certainly striking, and you're not exactly a priest.  I hate to say it, but I fear she thinks the worst."

Snape scowled as he snatched his shirt from where it rested on the back of a chair.  "It figures.  I don't know what I'm going to have to do to finally convince that woman I can be trusted."

"She trusts you, Severus, but only as much as she trusts anyone of the male gender under the age of eighty.  She's rather fond of Miss Granger."

"Every teacher in this damn school is 'rather fond of Miss Granger'.  The lot of you put her up on a bloody pedestal, heedless of the fact that she's only human and is likely to fail you one day."

"So says the man who lets her come at him with a sword three times a week." The headmaster's eyes twinkled with mischief.  "Terribly trusting of you when you consider that most Gryffindors can hardly stand the sight of you."

"You know as well as I do that no one can be killed in this room.  The worst you could manage is a nasty cut from an untipped blade."  He buttoned up his shirt as quick, purposeful steps could be heard coming down the hall.  "Hark, the dragon approaches."  Severus adopted his usual, icy demeanor as Albus chuckled.  

The door swung open to allow Minerva McGonagall into the room.  Her lips were pressed so tightly together that they had almost vanished and her eyes glittered dangerously from behind her glasses.  She leveled that fiery gaze at the Potions Master, her voice dripping with malice when she finally spoke.  "Just what do you think you are playing at?"

He arched an inky brow.  "Something troubling you, Minerva?"  He thought he heard Albus stifle a chuckle at his dry tone.

"Don't you take that tone with me, Severus Snape.  I demand to know what you're doing with Hermione Granger."

"At the moment, nothing.  Rather difficult to do anything when the girl isn't here.  I'll simply have to wait for her return."  He reached for his robes, pointedly ignoring the witch in front of him.  He wondered if she even realized that Dumbledore was sitting in the wingback chair behind her.  From the tense line of her shoulders, he rather doubted it.

"This is not a matter for joking, Severus!  A rather distraught house elf came to me in tears because she couldn't get a spot of blood out of some clothing."

"Well, that's not exactly the sort of thing I usually bother with, but I suppose I could brew a potion to help remove the stains.  However, what did you do to cut yourself so badly?"

"They weren't my clothes."  Her voice could have cut ice with its sharpness.  "They were Miss Granger's clothes.  I asked what happened to them, concerned for the well being of my student.  Imagine my surprise when I was informed she had somehow managed to get cut while dueling with the Potions Master!"

Severus made a sweeping gesture with one hand.  "It is a room full of swords.  What else would I be doing with them?"  He wondered if anyone had ever pointed out to the woman that her ears tended to twitch when she got angry.  Somehow he doubted that as well.  In the face of those quivering ears it was becoming rather difficult for him to maintain his snarky demeanor.  Truth was, he liked McGonagall, but she was more than a bit of a shrew at times.  

"You can't go after a student with a sword!"

"Why not, she comes at me with one.."

"Only because you encourage her!"

"This school is lacking in an adequate physical fitness regime.  Haven't you noticed how lazy and fat many of our students are becoming?  If Mr. Potter increases in size any further I doubt he'll be as effective a Seeker."  That was a lie, of course.  Potter returned every school year looking as though he hadn't seen a scrap of food and dressed in clothes large enough he could have made a tent out of them.  From the disgruntled whispers he had overheard coming from Hermione and the youngest Weasley boy; he strongly suspected that Potter's relations all but starved him when he was home, if not worse.  

"Do not try to dodge the subject!  I demand to know what your intentions are towards Hermione Granger!"

Perhaps he would burn in Hell for this later, but he simply couldn't resist.  "Nothing too spectacular.  I had thought that I would escort her to Hogsmede this coming Valentine's Day and book us a room in the inn.  A romantic getaway for two, away from prying eyes."  He pulled on his robes and smoothed out the creases that had formed while they lay in a chair.  When he looked back, Minerva's hands were balled up into fists, her expression livid.  "Oh, give over, Minerva!  I am not some lecher who preys upon little girls!"

The Transfiguration teacher took a deep, shuddering breath.  "I am only concerned for my student's welfare.  I am sure that many young men in this school have noticed her…"

"Any wizard over the age of fifteen would have to be gay, a eunuch and dead not to notice Hermione Granger!  Last time I looked, I was none of those three things.  However, I have enough sense _and enough decency not to form a romantic relationship with a student!"  He was becoming irritated now, feeling insulted by her distrust of him.  _

"Minerva," Dumbledore's voice was soft and calm, but it was a surprise to the woman who spun around to stare at him, "you do not need to worry about Miss Granger's virtue.  Not with Severus, at any rate.  With the exception of Viktor Krum, I cannot even think of a single young man who has managed to pull her away from her books long enough to engage her in so much as a kiss.  Besides, you have worked with Severus long enough to know his personality better than this.  He would do nothing to harm her."

The witch bristled a bit more, and then seemed to collect herself.  "You're right, of course, Headmaster.  Severus, I do hope you will forgive me.  I should have had more faith in your powers of judgment."  There was something in her manner that made him doubt that she was entirely ready to trust him, but it was a start.  His pride still stung from the suspicions, but he had gained nothing during his life if not a thick hide.

"Of course, Minerva, if you will forgive me my…" he broke off and clutched his left arm as a burning sensation ripped through it.  Taking a sharp breath, he yanked up the sleeve of his robe and looked at the Dark Mark, quickly turning a jet black in color.  "He's summoning us."  He was aware that Albus rose from his chair by the door and was moving towards him.

"You will need to hurry, then."

"Summoning you?  This close to Christmas?  What on earth could he be planning tonight?"

"Anything, Minerva.  Roasting Muggles on an open fire, most likely."  Even to his ears the words sounded bitter.  He didn't want to go.  Christmas Revels were always the worst.  But he had to go.  There was always a chance he could save someone if he went.  With a curt nod to Albus and Minerva, he left the room.  He thought he heard the witch cut of a worried cry behind him.

He hurried through the corridors towards his rooms.  The Dark Lord did not like for them to dawdle, but he did understand that they needed time to get to their robes and masks, usually.  As he made his way through the school, he began to force himself to think like a Death Eater, to feel heartless and cold.  Until he had taken the position of spy for Albus, he had never known just how effective of a thespian he could be.  When Voldemort had been in power before, it had been relatively simple.  He hadn't known that Severus had left then, so he didn't suspect him until much later.  In this time, however, Snape had been forced to walk a tight rope in order to convince him that he was loyal.  There had been pain beyond comprehension as he had been subjected to _Cruciatus time and time again.  To his shame, he had even been forced to kill innocent people to make himself seem genuine.  Even now he was still not entirely trusted, never sent out on missions alone if he was sent at all.  Still, he breathed and Voldemort seemed willing to test him. _

So far there had been very little useful information to bring back. 

His rooms seemed colder than they truly were as he crossed to his wardrobe and pulled open the heavy doors.  Hidden in the very back were his Death Eater robes and mask.  He draped the robes over his arm, using them to hide the mask, before shutting the wardrobe again and moving to the hearth.  Lighting a fire there, he threw in a pinch of floo powder and journeyed to a secure suite of rooms in the back of the Three Broomsticks. Here he donned his clothing and apparated to a place he didn't know, on the side of a hill where a small place had been magically cleared of snow especially for this meeting.  

The Death Eaters always stood in the same order when they made their circle around their lord.  Never was there any deviation unless status changed.  After returning and declaring that he had never forsaken Voldemort, Severus' position had been moved to the side of Lucius Malfoy, his new keeper.  Lucius, he knew, had grown fond of him since the Dark Lord fell the first time, even considered him as much of a friend as a Malfoy could ever have.  It made these meetings more bearable, but not likeable.  

But there was no Voldemort tonight.  Severus frowned and he heard several of the others who had assembled murmur their confusion.  There wasn't even the entire number here tonight.  Only a little more than a dozen had come, and when the wizard by his side moved forward, Severus knew that Lucius had called this particular meeting.  The feeling of dread that had been chilling his insides grew.  With Voldemort you may be lucky enough to escape with only a reminder of who was truly in charge and tasks given to various people.  Lucius, however, was an entirely different matter.  He may have the face of an arch angel and appear all that is proper and genteel, but he had the heart of a demon.  When Lucius was calling the shots someone was likely to die, but only after providing sufficient entertainment. They all knew this, and as the other's gathered realized who had summoned them, the excitement began to grow.

"My brothers, I have found a special target to help us celebrate the season.  Something heart wrenching and spectacular that will certainly drive it home that we are back and swiftly regaining our stature."  The hum of anticipation grew tense..

"Who is it, Lucius?" came McNair's voice.  Severus could see him rubbing something underneath his robes; his axe would be hanging there by his side.  

"Now, now.  I don't wish to spoil the surprise."  His smile was hidden behind the smooth steel of the mask.  He turned from them, his robes rustling in the wind, and began to walk over the crest of the hill.  The others turned to follow him in silence, all curious to know what was coming next.  Severus steeled himself to be impassive.  He would take whatever opportunity presented itself to save innocent lives, but he knew that he may be forced to let someone die in order to keep his cover.  He wondered if he would ever be able to wash the blood from his hands.

Their robes brushed the thick snow, magic keeping their feet dry within their boots.  With only the stars and the moon to light the area, and the Muggles all snug in their homes, they went unnoticed.  Severus saw that they were moving down the hillside into the edge of a suburban area, the houses relatively close to one another, and found it odd.  Usually they picked targets that were somewhat isolated, but close enough that the dark mark could be seen from neighboring areas.  The isolation gave them time to wring out every last scream that could be won.  Such a densely populated area meant they would have to work fast.

Lucius led them down the street, Goyle and Crabbe putting out the street lights as they went.  All about them were the festive decorations of Christmas and lighted trees could be seen through windows.  Night came early in December, and few bothered to venture out in the cold.  No one saw them, not one of their number, as they followed Lucius to a house with every window lit and five cars in front of it, two in the dive and three lining the street.  The wizards split up, some moving around to the back of the home while Lucius led Severus, McNair, Crabbe and Goyle to the front door.  

Malfoy surveyed the wreath on the door for a long moment, an evergreen branches twined with red and gold ribbons.  "How very Gryffindor."  He rang the bell, just as he had done many other times when they were hunting Muggles.  There was laughter coming from somewhere inside the house, one voice moving towards them.  It was a woman, her laugh musical and happy as she called out to someone over her shoulder that she would be right back.  The door swung open, little golden bells on the wreath chiming in the night air, and an elegant woman in a pantsuit of silk and cashmere looked out at them.  She frowned at the smooth, faceless masks, confused.  Then Lucius spoke a greeting that chilled the very marrow in Severus' veins.  "Merry Christmas, Mrs. Granger."

Lucius rushed her, making her fall back in surprise.  Severus and the others followed suit, the woman yelling as Malfoy gripped her arm and threw her into Goyle's waiting hands.  Snape had no time to be sickened by the buffoon's laugh, no time to think about the twisted little games the man liked to play.  His mind was already working on something else.  Whereas Hermione Granger's holiday plans were not secret, no one had been allowed to utter a word about Potter.  The second he had learned just whose house this was, he knew why Lucius had chosen it.  He had finally tired of Hermione outpacing his son and had decided to do something about it.  He was right, it would send a message.  The girl was not unknown in their world and many would be shocked by the attack.

As their group moved in from the front, the second half moved in through the back, effectively trapping the Grangers between them.  Severus noted that the family seemed to be gathered for a holiday celebration, all of them dressed to the nines.  The adults where all held in surprise, the first to rise from their seats in the parlor being a pair of young men, impossibly tall and built more like walls than men.  The room erupted into shouts and frightened screams.  His eyes scanned the gathering and found no trace of either Hermione or Potter.  He noted that the men present met the threat bravely, but even bravery buckles under _Cruciatus.  He forced himself to turn away, unable to help any here, and hid his disgust by gliding up a set of stairs to the second floor._

The second floor was immaculate with very few holiday decorations adorning it.  This would be where the family slept, behind the various doors that lined the hallways.  The sounds of the Death Eaters and their victims could be heard from below, but he was searching for other things.  He knew enough about Gryffindors to know that they wouldn't hide from danger, but run down to face it head on.  He doubted the children were still here.  

He found and ignored what was doubtlessly the Grangers' bedroom, discovered what looked like a small home office and discounted a small bathroom.  The next door, however, opened to reveal a guest room that was in use.  The bed was neatly made, but a change of tasteful clothing was laid out carefully on the coverlet, a pair of polished dress shoes on the floor.  Next to one wall was Potter's trunk, the lid open to reveal several items of clothing still folded as though fresh from a shop.  Not wasting time, Severus transfigured the clothes on the bed into throw pillows, turned the shoes into a statue of an owl which he then levitated onto the dresser and shaped the trunk into a shorter version of a storage case on metal casters which he then sent rolling underneath the bed.  Moving more swiftly now, he made his way through a side door.  Upon opening it, he saw that it lead to a spacious bath, but there was nothing of Potter here.  It wasn't as tidy as the rest of the house, as though the children hadn't had time to clean up after themselves before their company had arrived.  He walked through it to the door on the other wall.

The bedroom on the other side of the door was a mixture of little girl and mad scientist.  The thick blanket that covered the bed was a quilt made to represent what he recognized to be the Periodic Table of Elements, an important reference in Muggle Chemistry.  The drapes were white fabric with lace overlay and the lamps on the bedside tables had pink shades with flowered borders.  There was a poster of Albert Einstein, one of the greatest minds in Arithmancy, on one wall.  There were shelves everywhere, and each one crammed full with so many books that they were bowed underneath the weight.  He noted with a twinge of amusement that she had put the books in order by topic, then by the authors' names, much as he did for his own private library.  

His eyes were drawn back to the bed where something crimson lay spread out neatly.  He stepped closer and looked down at the simple, elegant sheath of velvet, resting there in patient waiting for its owner to return.  He could easily picture Hermione wearing such a dress, without a lot of sparkle or gilding to detract from her innocent prettiness.  His fingers reached out and brushed the fabric when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye.  Looking up, he saw a wooden case resting on the feminine desk a few feet from the bed.  He realized what it was at once and bit off a curse.  With purposeful strides he crossed over and snatched up the case, slipping into one of his pockets.  If Miss Granger lived through this night, he planned to give her a blistering lecture on the importance of why you never leave your home without you wand.

Footsteps were running down the hallways.  Someone burst through the room's other door and Severus recognized it as Mrs. Granger, her silk blouse ripped and finger shaped bruises already forming on creamy skin.  The elegant knot of her hair was coming undone and her lipstick was smeared from forced kisses.  Her eyes flew open at the sight of him before they strayed briefly to where her daughter's trunk rested against one wall.  He knew instantly that she had come up here to try and hide as much evidence of her daughter's presence as possible.

"They already know she came home."  He kept his voice soft.  He knew he hadn't much time.  "But they don't know about the boy.  Do you expect them home soon?"  The woman looked at him, but didn't answer.  He knew she didn't trust him.  "Answer me!  Do you expect them back yet?"  Her eyes drifted to a little clock by her daughter's bed, then came back to him.  She swallowed, and then nodded hesitantly.  

He let out a sigh only he could hear.  In the distance he could hear the sirens of the Muggle law enforcement.  The Ministry wizards would be alerted soon.  The Death Eaters were out of time.  He moved closer to the woman, meaning to bespell her into a semblance of death before any of the wizards came upstairs, but before he could mutter an altered version of _Avada Kedavra, the real version was cast from just outside in the hallway.  _

"Severus!  Any sign of the mudblood?"  Malfoy, of course.

"No.  She must have gone out with some of her Muggle friends."  He concentrated on keeping his voice calm, refusing to look down on the body of Mrs. Granger.  Was this all of Hermione's family?  Everyone but an ailing grandfather?  The books, the quilt, her academic performance all testified to the love and adoration she enjoyed in the womb of her family, and this man had taken all from her out of immature spite.  Severus' fingers tightened around his wand as he fought the urge to murder Lucius Malfoy.

"Pity.  We cannot wait for her return.  The Ministry will be here soon.  You'd best get out before they alert that idiot Headmaster and he notices your absence.  I've already sent the others on ahead."  The wizard looked around the room disdainfully.  "McNair has set fire to the downstairs and sent up the dark mark.  Our work here is done."  Severus could almost hear the smile beneath the mask just before Lucius disapparated.  

Severus stood in the now silent bedroom of Hermione Granger.  There was a part of him that wanted to stay, to be here when she came home to find her family gone so that she would not be alone.  Someone would need to be there to hold her when she cried.  But he was ill suited for such shows of kindness and understanding.  She had Potter with her now, though how much use a dimwitted boy would be to her he couldn't say.

"Take care of her Potter.  Bring her home safely."

There was a soft 'pop' as he left the house, Hermione's wand still in his pocket.


	2. Chapter Two

The private suite seemed to echo with a cruel laughter when he apparated inside it.  He didn't waste any time throwing a pinch of floo powder into the fire and using it to travel to his private chambers. He threw off the mask and robes, tossing them unceremoniously over a chair before snatching a piece of parchment and his quill from his desk.  He loaded the quill with ink and quickly wrote a single sentence on the scrap of parchment before laying it back down.  The parchment held in his hand by the corner so that the ink would finish drying while he ran, he left his quarters.  His feet carried him through the corridors and up the stone staircases until he was running upwards to the owlrey.  Most of the birds had left for their nightly hunt, but there were a few perched there who had already returned, and one sitting alone as she pined for the master who had seen fit to leave her on the school grounds during the holidays. 

"You there!  Potter's owl!  Come down here."  He grabbed a piece of twine from a box that was attached to the wall by the door and rolled up the now dry parchment.  The snowy owl came down to him, landing on a perch by his elbow.  "Your master is in trouble.  He and his friend were forced to flee for their lives tonight and their whereabouts are unknown."  Wizarding owls, being almost as clever as their masters, understood human speech quite well.  The owl began to grow agitated, snapping her beak nervously.  "I know that you can find him.  Take this message to him.  If he is well, remain until he sends back a response.  If he is unwell, return here instantly and fetch a teacher to take to him."  He tied the note to her leg, which she held out towards him without question, then lifted the bird on his arm and walked her to a window.  "Try to keep unnoticed, stay to areas where you will blend with the snow.  Use your color to your advantage and don't delay."  She gave him a hoot to confirm that she understood and then took off through the window.  He had no doubt that the owl would find the boy.  

He turned around and ran back down the stairs, hurrying towards the Headmaster's office.  As he approached the stone gargoyle he bit out "acid pops" and stepped onto the moving staircase revealed when the guardian hopped aside.  He ran up the stairs for extra speed and didn't bother to knock as he entered.  Minerva was there, as was Madame Pomfrey.  The school nurse was always present when he returned, ever prepared to tend to him after having to put him back together when Voldemort had finished punishing him for his lack of faith.  It had been some time since he had been tortured by the Dark Lord, but the woman was the mother hen sort, cut from the same cloth as Molly Weasley.  Both women stood and faced him as he entered.

"Severus!  You're back already?  What happened?"  Minerva gripped her hands together tightly as Poppy hurried forward to run her wand over him in search for injuries.  Albus sat in his chair, his blue eyes sharp and focused on him.

"Albus, it was the Grangers.  Lucius Malfoy led an attack on the Grangers."  He heard Minerva give a strangled cry.  She clutched her chest as her knees appeared to buckle, forcing her to reach out with her other hand to brace herself on the arm of a chair.  

"And the children, Severus?"

"They weren't there.  I don't know where they were, but I've just sent Potter's owl to find him."

The Headmaster leaned back in his chair, suddenly looking old and frail.  He pursed his lips and fiddled with his beard.  "Any survivors?"

"No.  I almost had one, but Lucius interfered."  His black eyes moved to Minerva who appeared to be on the verge of tears.  "I'm sorry, Minerva, but it looked as though most of her immediate family must have been present.  There were several adults as well as their children."  He lowered his eyes respectively.  It always hit Minerva the hardest when one of her Gryffindors was orphaned.  Though stern and a strict disciplinarian, she loved each of her students like a precious nephew or niece.  With Hermione, it had crossed into something more like a surrogate daughter.  Minerva, he suspected, saw something of herself in the girl.

The Headmaster got up and crossed over to the hearth.  He took a pinch of powder and threw it in.  The flames roared emerald and he shouted to it clearly.  "Molly Weasley!"  A moment later the head of Bill Weasley came into view.

"Sorry, Professor.  Mum's not here.  The Ministry contacted Dad about another attack, and once Diggory said it was the Grangers, Mum insisted on going as well.  Charlie, Percy and the twins went with them, too.  I had to stay here to make sure Ron and Ginny didn't run off to follow them."

"Harry and Hermione have not shown up there, then?"

"No, Headmaster."  A second head with silvery blond hair crowded into the fireplace as well.

"You 'ave 'ope that zey are all safe, then?"  Fleur Weasley looked anxiously up at Albus.

"It appears that they may, Fleur.  Bill, keep an eye out for them.  Contact me if they should appear at the Burrow."

"The very second they do, Professor.  Oh, and if they show up there, you'd best let Mum know.  She's about to have kittens."  Bill tried to smile, his wife had vanished again.  It was the way of most Weasley's to try and inject a little light hearted feeling into a tense situation, but even Bill was having trouble.  His weak smile had faltered and faded before his head vanished.

"If they're not with the Weasleys, then where did they go, Albus?"  Minerva was back to gripping her hands together so hard that the blood had fled them.

"There is one other place they might have gone.  It is possible that Harry took her to Privett Drive."  He pursed his lips again, as though he wasn't sure this was a viable option.

"Privet Drive?  To the Dursleys?  Albus, surely not.  He can't stand those horrible people!"

"Be that as it may, Minerva, I placed some very strong protections around that house.  I suspect that Harry knows this, and if he was able to gather his wits about him through the tension of the moment, he may have had the clarity of thought to know it was the one place outside of this school where no one could touch him.  They would be safe there."  He turned to them both.  "Minvera, there are things that must be seen to.  We need to act quickly if we are to prevent Miss Granger from being placed in a Muggle orphanage or sent to some relation who may stop her studies here.  There are papers to be altered and arrangements to be made.  Am I safe in assuming that you would be willing to petition for guardianship?"

"Of course, Albus."  She straightened her shoulders and nodded.  

"Good, you will need to come with me, then.  Severus, I feel that a wizard with a more ruthless streak should go after the children.  I need you to go to the Dursley's and wait for them there.  I'll send word if they arrive at either The Burrow or here first."

Severus nodded wordlessly and left the room.  He would return to his rooms and fetch his traveling kit before leaving.  Every good Potions Master had one, a small but eclectic collection of ingredients that could be used to brew a variety of different medicinal potions.  There could be injuries or signs of exposure if they were outside in the snow, and there would definitely be mental trauma if the pair found the house.  He walked into his study and pointed himself towards his private lab when there was a momentary roar from his hearth.  He usually doused the fire when he came back, to prevent any unexpected visitors, but he had apparently forgotten to do so in his rush tonight.  Lucius' head was in the fire.

"Severus, did you make it back in time?"

He quickly reigned himself in before answering.  "Apparently.  Dumbledore was just summoning me when I arrived.  I told him I had been in town for a drink."

"Good.  I didn't know if you'd make it back before he noticed you were gone.  He knows about the attack, then?"

"He does, and so does McGonagall.  They're together discussing it now."

Malfoy scowled.  "And the girl?"

His target _had_ been Hermione, then.  Severus forced himself to remain expressionless.  "No sign of her, yet.  If she returned after we disapparated, it's possible that the Ministry wizards have her."

"Just what we need.  We can't talk like this.  Come through to the manor."  The head vanished, but the flames remained green.  He glared at the flames before stepping through them and exiting into Lucius' well appointed study.  The other wizard was pouring burbon into a pair of elegant tumblers.  "The Ministry is growing more and more troublesome by the day.  It was one thing when Fudge was convinced that Dumbledore was mad in his beliefs that our lord had returned, but now that he has come to the realization that old meddler was right he has become worse than any dog nipping at our heels.  He's given more and more responsibility to that Muggle Lover, Weasley.  Arthur's always waiting for a chance to put me under investigation for one thing or another.  If they have that little Mudblood, they'll hold her up to the press as the tragic victim."

Severus accepted the glass.  "If I may point out, Lucius, they would have done so if we had killed her.  You're forgetting that there are some prominent wizards and witches who know and respect Hermione Granger.  She made so many O.W.L.S that she broke the record set by the Dark Lord in his time.  It even made the front page of the papers."

"She's a mudblood, Severus.  She would have been forgotten in time.  It's a pity she didn't have the decency to be there when we arrived."  Malfoy drained his glass in one gulp.  He scowled and set the glass down on his desk with an irritated thump.  "Tonight didn't go nearly as well as I had hoped.  They lived too close to their neighbors.  There wasn't enough time to have any proper fun with them."

Severus said nothing.  He didn't drink from the glass, it had been a long time since he had drank anything that a Death Eater gave him.  He didn't trust them not to poison him.  He merely made some sound of agreement without actually vocalizing anything.  Lucius' gaze turned to him.  "You missed out on most of the fun, Severus.  Why did you go upstairs, anyway?"

"Making sure that there were no other family members hiding there.  I didn't expect to find the Granger girl, a Gryffindor would have charged at us with her wand in hand, but there could have been younger children already put to bed."

"Ah, of course."  The other wizard gave him a conspiratorial smile.  "You always were there to clean up when we'd been sloppy, weren't you, Severus?  Sometimes I wonder what we would have done without you."  He crossed the room to place a hand on Severus' shoulder.  

"Most likely you would have been caught because of something those idiot lapdogs of yours had done."  He didn't shrug off the hand, although he felt as though he would need to scrape the skin from his shoulder to clean the taint from it.  Lucius let out a laugh.

"Yes, Crabbe and Goyle are somewhat of a bother.  Their sons, if the truth were to be told, are not much better.  However, Draco suffers their incompetence well."  He let go his grip and went to his chair, falling into it with the cocky air of someone who knows they have just gotten away with murder.  Though the temptation was there to kill the man before him, Severus couldn't help but reflect on how this had been him as well, at one time.  He had once been just as arrogant and certain that nothing could touch him.  The difference between himself and Lucius Malfoy was that Severus had not entirely lost his conscience.  There had still been a spark of humanity within him, enough of a spark to send him back to Albus and confess his sins.  The same conscience that tortured him on a regular basis had saved his soul.

"They were such a lovely family, weren't they, Severus?  And so very brave, it's easy to see where the little bitch got her nature from.  We didn't stun those boys quickly enough; one of them nearly broke McNair's jaw.  Although, I hadn't expected so many.  I can't imagine why they would have gathered for their Christmas dinner the day before.  We might have gotten the girl if it had just been herself and her parents."

"What girl?"

Lucius and Severus both looked over to the doorway of the study.  Draco was standing there, apparently having gotten up for some odd reason as he was still wearing his bed clothes and his robe.  His pale hair was tousled from sleep and he looked even paler than usual.  His father smiled at him.  "You're awake?  Not having trouble, I hope."

The boy shook his head.  "I was thirsty."  He cast a confused glance at his teacher, and then looked back to his father.  "What girl, Father?  What family?"  Severus noted that in half-sleep the boy's voice lacked the arrogant drawl that he used at school.  

"Just an attempt to make you life a bit easier, son.  We paid a call on that Mudblood's family, the one that is always upstaging you at school."  Lucius gave him a warm, indulgent smile.  "Unfortunately, the little chit didn't have the manners to be there when we arrived."

"Granger?"  There was a look of shock and, dare he believe it, horror?  Just as quickly as it was seen, Draco banished it and replaced it with his usual snide demeanor.  "Pity.  It would have been fun to go back after the holidays and see how Weasley took it.  He's got a soft spot for her, has had ever since our fourth year."  He gave Severus another look.  "Well, perhaps next time.  Her luck's bound to run out on her soon.  I'll just be going then.  Good night, Father."  He vanished from the door into the dark hallway behind him, and Severus thought that he caught a worried expression on the boy's face in the reflection of a display case when he turned from his father's sight.  Could it be possible that there was still a chance to save the boy?  Severus tightened his self-control and promised himself to keep a closer eye than ever on Draco Malfoy, in hopes that he could stop him from becoming the same monster his father was.

"You will let me know how the girl does when she returns to school, won't you?  Perhaps this will put her in her place, if nothing else."  Lucius stood, his smile friendly and triumphant.  "I'm sure that Draco will be willing to help in any way possible."

Severus nodded, a curt jerk of his head.  "Of course, Lucius."  He noted that the sky was growing lighter outside the windows.  Where had the night gone?  It had felt as though time was standing still, but the dawn was approaching.  "If you will excuse me, I must return to the school.  The nurse always asks me to help restock her infirmary stores during the break in preparation of the students' return.  If I leave now, I may be able to manage a few hours sleep before she invades my privacy."

Lucius laughed, amused by this.  "Certainly.  I hadn't realized the hour."  He clapped a hand on Severus' shoulder and squeezed it lightly.  "It was good to have you with us, my friend.  We had thought we had lost you."  Yes, they had thought that they had lost him, that he had deserted them for good.  

"My loyalty to our lord is complete, Lucius.  You know this."  He sat his untouched glass upon a low table and nodded his farewell.  Lucius threw a pinch of floo powder into the hearth for him.  Severus stepped in, called out his chambers, and then vanished.

As he stepped out of the hearth into his chambers, he snarled to himself.  Lucius had delayed him and cost him precious time.  If his suspicions about those Muggles Potter lived with were close to accurate, then it would have been better for him to have been there when the children arrived, if they were headed there at all.  He went back across the room to once again try and claim his traveling kit when there was a knock on his door.  A very solid, very firm knock.  

"What now?!"  He snarled before shouting towards the door. "Come in!"

The door swung open and Severus was not surprised to see the giant, hulking form Hagrid there.  Through the wild tangles of bushy, black hair, he could see that the man had been crying.  "Professor Snape, sir…"

"Yes, Hagrid, it's true.  No, I do not know where they are, I was on my way to one of the possible locations.  And, no, you cannot come with me."  He sounded tired, even to his own ears.

"But, Hermione might need me, might need someone to hold her."  He was trying not to cry again, making little hiccoughing noises in his throat.

"I'm going into a Muggle community, Hagrid.  You'll draw too much attention to us.  If you want to help, stay here for when Potter's owl returns.  She'll have a response to the message I sent him."  He didn't close the door but instead walked back and finally got his potions kit.  "And put out this fire after I'm gone.  I don't want any surprises when I get back."

"Yes, sir.  Good luck, an' take good care of 'em."  He knew that it was taking a great deal of willpower for the half-giant to entrust the care of those two with him.  He trusted Severus because he knew that Albus trusted him, but he also knew that the Potions Master had no love for the Gryffindors, especially Harry Potter.  Still, he was willing to take the chance if it meant that the children would be returned safely to the school.  "An… an give those relatives o'his a sound thrashing if they've upset her more than she already is."

A smirk tugged at Severus' mouth as he shrugged the strap of his kit over his shoulder.  "I'll do that."  Once again he threw some of the powder into the hearth, stepped into the flames, and traveled to his quarters at the inn.  From there he apparated to the walkway before Number 4, Privet Drive.  He raised his hand and knocked upon the door.  He was about to do so again when it took so long for an answer then the door opened and a boy about Potter's age look out at him.  He had pale blond hair and, judging from the size of his face, was quite possibly the most obese person Severus had ever seen.  The boy stared at him in shock, but when he had opened the door the sound of angry voices had been able to reach him.

"You will not take that tone with me, boy!"

"You don't know anything about her!  Nothing at all about what kind of people her family was!"

**_"I know that you've brought some little tart you met at that freakish school of yours into my home!"_**

****

**_"She's NOT a tart!  Don't you dare call her that again!"_**

The boy at the door swallowed hard.  Severus arched a brow at the inside door that the voices were traveling through.  "I take it that they arrived here, then?"  The boy didn't answer.  "I'm here to make sure that they are safe."  The boy still didn't respond, apparently too afraid.  Severus gave him a disdainful look, and then graced him with his most terrifying voice.  "Move."

The boy gave a squeak and run towards the inner door, leaving the outside door standing wide open. The wizard stepped over the threshold and made his way to the now open door.  The voices had stopped when the large boy rushed through it, and now a taller, more slender form came into view.  When he saw who had come, Potter's eyes widened behind his glasses. "P… Professor Snape?"  A large man with a purple face and no neck appeared, knocking Potter aside as though he were nothing more then refuse.

"I demand you leave my house at once!"

Severus gave him a look as though the man were something disgusting on the bottom of his boot.  He did not stop walking towards the door, and as he suspected, the man's courage faltered.  He moved his considerable bulk aside to allow the wizard entrance into what turned out to be the kitchen.  Snape's eyes immediately sought out Potter.  "You made it here, then.  The Headmaster thought that you might."

"Oh, is that how you got here so quickly?  I only sent Hedwig back with a reply this morning."  He shifted on his feet nervously.  "I… I thought that Professor McGonagall would come, or perhaps Professor Dumbledore."

"They are busy at the ministry, taking care of Miss Granger's future needs.  I am here to see after the two of you."  He gave a glance towards the Dursleys, Harry's aunt and cousin trying to hide behind the man of the house, though it was laughable to think that fat boy actually thought he could hide behind his father.  "Where is she?"

"U… upstairs.  We put her in the guest room." He stopped, concern darkening his green eyes.  "She's bad off, Professor.  Really bad."

"Show me."

The boy was edgy as he moved past his teacher and out of the kitchen.  He led the way up the staircase and down the upstairs hall and opened a door leading to a bedroom decorated in blue and white.  Hermione lay on the full sized bed within, her face turned towards the window.  Her knees were drawn up, arms before her with elbows bent, much like a babe still in its mother's womb.  Though she faced away from them, he could tell that she was staring at the wall, unblinking.  He recognized the signs all to well.  Potter's voice was barely more than a whisper when he spoke.  "She's been like that since last night, Professor. I don't think she even slept." He didn't doubt that to be the case.  Stepping back, he pulled the door shut again and motioned for the boy to follow him back down the stairs to the kitchen. 

The Dursleys were still standing there, apparently too afraid to move although the man was now holding a large kitchen knife.  "I'm warning you, I will not tolerate this intrusion!"

Severus pulled out his wand and gestured to the kitchen table with its chairs.  "Sit down over there, all of you, and do not move unless told otherwise."  He forced himself to hide his amusement as the Muggles immediately obeyed.  He had wondered if their shabby treatment of their nephew didn't grow from fear of magic and wizards.  Apparently it did, but they were too thick to realize that one day Potter would no longer be bound by the laws restricting underage wizards, but would in fact be a powerful adult wizard himself.  Rather foolish of them, in his opinion.

He took his traveling kit and unpacked a few items onto the kitchen counter.  With a wave of his wand, he reversed the shrinking spell used to make the items more compact before handing a thick root to Potter.  "Make yourself useful and begin shredding this."  Severus filled the now enlarged cauldron with water and set it atop the range, studying the knobs for a moment to discern their uses before turning it on.  The water needed to be boiling before he began adding ingredients.  "Now, tell me exactly what happened."

Potter launched into the story, clearing away the mystery of where he and Hermione had been while the Death Eaters were tearing apart her world.  His voice caught in some places and Severus suspected that he was wrapped up in sympathy pain for his friend's loss.  He found himself wondering how the boy managed to carry on when he felt so deeply.  Potter's life, he had come to suspect, had been little more than misery before his coming to Hogwarts.  After that point in time he had found some happiness at the castle, but that happiness had always been intermingled with tragedy.  Still, he could not put aside his personal feelings towards the boy to show him any kindness or risk word reaching the Death Eaters that he favored the child who had once defeated their lord.  Also, he felt it wrong to pamper the boy as Molly Weasley did when he cried.  The boy needed steel in his spine if he was to survive the trials life had in store for him.

"I… I knocked her down to the ground to keep her from running to the house, held her down and kept her from screaming.  When… when it was clear, I summoned the Knight Bus and had it bring us here.  Stan took one look at the Dark Mark and didn't even charge us.  He and the driver just wanted to get us away from that place as fast as they could."

"The Ministry will reimburse them as they always have.  It was one of the unwritten duties of the Knight Bus to get those who needed help to safety when the Death Eaters attacked.  I had wondered if you wouldn't show up soon.  In truth, I was afraid you would show up before we left."  He didn't elaborate; he just let the statement fall to the floor like lead as he stirred the potion.

"We?"  Potter's voice was suddenly a hoarse whisper.  "You were… you were there?"  He held out the now shredded roots automatically as Severus held his hand out for them.  The Potions Master took them and added them to the simmering potion. 

"There was a Revel called last night.  I was summoned along with several others.  Unfortunately, the Grangers were the target."  When he stopped talking, the only sounds left in the kitchen were the gurgling bubbles of the potion and the ticking of a clock on the far wall.  After a long silence, Potter's voice ventured again.

"Did… did you save any of them?"

The potion turned a shimmering blue, indicating that it was ready.  He reached down and turned the range knob to the 'off' position.  "No."  He reached into his potions kit and pulled out a large, clean vial into which he ladled some of the potion until it was filled.  He replaced the ladle into the cauldron and turned away, heading back through the kitchen door after giving a warning glare to the Muggles still seated at the table.

The boy followed him as he walked up the stairs, turned left down the narrow hallway and opened the door to the bedroom.  She was still in the exact same position as she had been earlier.  Potter hovered at the door as Severus walked over to the bed and knelt down upon it with one knee.  With his free hand he tugged the covers down so that he could slip his arm underneath her, maneuvering so that he was eventually cradling her head before he began his attempts to turn her over.  "This way, Miss Granger."  

As if he had her on some sort of leash, she turned towards him.  The emptiness in those wide, brown eyes would have made a weaker man cry out in pain, but he had expected to see it.  He lifted her up and placed the vial to her lips.  "Drink this, it will help you."  He did not keep frivolous ingredients in his travel kit, so there had been nothing that would have safely sweetened the mixture.  Her face contorted as the bitter substance hit her tongue but he knew she needed this. "All of it."

"What is it, Professor?"  Harry's voice sounded concerned as he watched his friend drain the contents of the vial.  Severus kept himself from snapping at the boy, from pointing out that now was a little late to worry if he was going to poison the girl.  

"Dreamless Sleep. She cannot sleep because her subconscious is aware of the nightmares that await her. This will allow her to rest somewhat from her ordeal and grant her the strength she needs to face what happened when she wakes."  The last drop slid from the glass and into her mouth.  "There will be plenty of time for nightmares later."

_And believe me, Mr. Potter; you want her well rested before she dreams._  A strong, we rested Hermione Granger would be able to handle the pain.  This broken, drifting girl before him just might be capable of suicide.  An unwelcome image of her lying in a steaming tub of water tinged pink with her own blood swam into his mind, and he banished it quickly.  The potion was already working, her body going truly slack for the first time in hours as she surrendered to the blackness.  Tucking the vial into his pocket, he straightened the girl out into a more comfortable position before pulling the covers back over her. 

"Come, Mr. Potter."

"How long will she sleep, Sir?"  He stepped back into the hallway, allowing Severus to close the door behind him.

"Hopefully a day or more. We'll need to stay here until she wakes.  That will also give time for Minerva to bully the Ministry into assigning her as Miss Granger's legal guardian.  After tonight, it's obvious that she's better off within the castle, where the Death Eaters can't reach her."  With a swish of his robes, he turned away and started to walk towards the staircase.

"Who was it, Professor?  Who was there?"  Snape stopped and turned back around.  The slight boy was still standing outside the bedroom door.  His fists were clenched tightly and his eyes were flashing with a light that could only be from a wizard pushed to near breaking point.  The expression on his face was murderous.  He had seen that look on the face of James Potter once, long ago, when he had confronted his best friend after a prank gone horribly wrong.  James had looked as though he would have gladly torn Sirius Black apart, for both attempting to seriously injure himself and for using their mutual friend, Remus Lupin, to do it.  

Severus turned around fully and looked at the boy.  He contemplated him for a long, heavy moment.  "No, Potter, I will not tell you that."

"I want to know!  I want to know who did this to her!  Who killed the Grangers?"  Picture frames, all containing images of the Dursley's depressingly rotund child, began to shake from an unseen force.  

"And what good would it do to tell you?  Do you plan to run off and fight them?  You would be killed in a heartbeat.  There are other tasks you must perform in your life and you must be whole to do them.  Besides, this is Miss Granger's fight.  If there is to be blood spilled in the name of revenge, it is her right to spill it."

"She can't do it.  She's just a girl."

Snape arched a dark brow and leveled a quelling glare at the boy.  "Just a girl?"  He put the ice back into his voice, the tone that had students quaking in fear behind their cauldrons.  Slowly, he walked back towards the boy, and Potter faltered his ground, hands unclenching.  "Do not fool yourself into believing that Miss Granger's rank in class is solely based on her addiction to books.  It takes power to work magic as we as knowledge.  Minerva McGonagall is 'just a girl', and Albus himself considers her his superior in Transfiguration.  Your mother was 'just a girl', and before her death, there were Death Eaters who trembled in fear at the mere mention of her name.  Do not discount your Miss Granger as 'just a girl', Potter.  The most dangerous creatures in nature are female.  Do not let the natural instinct to mother and protect that women possess lull you into the belief that they are harmless.  Women are capable of more violence, of more bloodshed, than even the darkest of wizards.  They just require a better reason to do so."

He let these words sink into the boy's head for a moment, and then turned from him.  "Come, Potter.  We should return downstairs, before your relations do something stupid."


	3. Chapter Three

Severus massaged his temples in a vain attempt to relieve the headache brought on by sleep deprivation. The Muggles had been relatively easy to subdue, given that they were terrified of him.  Potter had cleaned up the mess created by brewing the sleeping potion and had repacked his traveling kit.  He had sent the woman out to purchase hygiene items for Hermione, but had opted not to have Potter's cousin clean her clothing since the boy didn't look intelligent enough to manage it.  

He had already contacted Albus at the Ministry of Magic.  The headmaster and Minerva were currently at the Department of Wizarding Family Affairs, waiting for a Ministry official to bring back the Grangers' will so that it could be altered.  It wasn't an unheard of practice.  During the first war many such alterations had been done when the family of a Muggleborn witch or wizard was killed by the Death Eaters.  The Ministry was unwilling to risk that these talented children would be lost to them if their relations or guardians chose to remove them from Hogwarts.  It happened occasionally in times of peace and had come back into full swing once the second war had begun.  After speaking to Albus it had become apparent that there was something of an uproar at the Ministry of Miss Granger.  Apparently Molly Weasley and Minerva were in a disagreement over just which one should have custody of her.  Albus was busy playing referee. 

Hermione wouldn't wake until sometime the following afternoon.  He could move her to St. Mungo's, but there was no reason to do so.  There was precious little the healers could do for her and Poppy Pomfrey would be a better choice.  Right now it was more important that she get her rest so that she would be strong for the trip back to Hogwarts.  Severus had told the Headmaster this, and as such did not expect the others to arrive until tomorrow.  It was up to him to keep things calm, and as he trusted the Dursleys to cower in silence rather than risk the neighbors possibly figuring out their connection with people like him, he decided that he might as well get some sleep.

"Potter, is there another bedroom in this house?"

The boy looked up from a copy of the Muggle newspaper.  "No sir.  There's just the four."  The boy hesitated a moment, then offered, "You can take my room, sir.  I can make do with the sofa.  It's the smallest one, first door on the right as you go upstairs."

Snape gave a soft grunt of acceptance, and the nodded towards the paper.  "What excuse did the Ministry come up with this time?"

"Hot water heater exploding."  Potter sighed and shook his head.  "They really need to get an imagination.  Who's going to believe that an entire house and family were killed by a hot water heater exploding?"

"It will work, Potter.  Even their lamest excuses work on Muggles.  It's easier for them to believe a house was destroyed by a hot water heater than to admit they saw a green skull hovering over it."  He got up from the table, wincing at the sound of his joints cracking.  He sounded old.  "If you will excuse me, Potter, I have not yet had the luxury of sleep."

"Of course, Professor.  I'll try to keep them quiet."  He jerked his head towards the open kitchen door, and Severus knew he was referring to his Muggle relations.  Snape inclined his head silently and swept out of the kitchen.  

The first door on the right struck him as odd the moment he laid eyes on it.  He hadn't paid much attention to it before on account of his concern for Hermione.  Now he looked at it in greater detail.  Several locks had been installed, their keyholes facing to the hallway, and a cat flap was at the bottom.  Severus had not seen evidence of a cat and he didn't think that Potter's owl would be using an inside door for her comings and goings.  An inky black brow arched as he reasoned out what the presence of those locks and that cat flap meant.  He opened the door with some trepidation and stepped into the tiny room.  

It was barely fit for habitation.  The floor was without carpeting, the walls dingy and the furniture cheap and worn.  The minimum for a bed had been provided and the blankets upon it were threadbare and thin.  Severus clenched his jaw tightly as he took it all in.  He held no love for Harry Potter and he doubted that he ever would, but what he had seen since arriving here did little to ease him of some very old fears.  He had heard the rumors of Potter's ill treatment at the hands of his Muggle relations every since the boy started at Hogwarts, and the knowledge of their neglect frightened him.  The boy was something unique, and he suspected that Harry had powers only Dumbledore suspected.  Had Lily and James lived, their son would have had a warm, stable and loving home.  As it was it was a miracle that Harry Potter wasn't turning into the same twisted soul Tom Riddle had become.  It helped, he supposed, that Potter had fallen in with someone like Hermione and people such as the Weasleys.  Hermione was an example of how well balanced a witch could be when raised by a proper Muggle family and Arthur Weasley's love of all things Muggle was a healthy example of how the two worlds could work together.

He took out his wand and waved it over the bed.  Instantly it became long enough for him and the mattress and bedclothes were made like new.  After shrugging out of his outer robes, he draped them over the single chair before lying down on the improved bed.  A simple charm darkened the glass of the window so that the sunlight was blocked out.  Hermione wouldn't wake up any time soon and he felt secure in his abilities to react in time should Potter's relatives find their backbones and try something foolish.  

The boy was true to his word about trying to keep his relations quiet, and had succeeded in his goal.  Severus managed to sleep through the rest of the day and most of the night, though his sleep was plagued with violent dreams.  His mind replayed the garish scenes of the attack, but it was the vision of Lucius Malfoy and his cronies forcing themselves on a Hermione clad in crimson velvet that was the reason he awoke with his fists clenched tightly enough to leave bloody half-moons on his palms.  He sighed and checked the numbers on a scuffed and abused alarm clock to find that it was only four-thirty in the morning.  Figuring that nearly twelve hours of sleep was enough for anyone, he got up. He left his outer robes where they were and stepped out of the tiny room.  Grunting snores came from two rooms, doubtless made by Vernon and Dudley Dursley.  How Mrs. Dursley could sleep through the racket he didn't know.  

Instead of heading downstairs, he walked to the door of the guest room and opened it more silently than was needed.  Pale moonlight flooded through a window to illuminate the bed.  He saw not one, but two dark shapes there.  His eyes adjusted to the change in lighting enough to realize that what he was seeing was Hermione, still bundled underneath the covers, and Potter, lying above the covers and with one arm draped around the girl's waist.  Something sharp and nameless stabbed through his gut before he banished it.  There was nothing sexual or romantic in Potter's actions, he knew this.  If Hermione and the boy were sweethearts, Minerva McGonagall would have shouted it from the rooftops of the castle by now.  Potter was merely trying to 'be there' for his friend, understanding her heartache at this moment in time.  It must be harder on her than it had been on him.  He had never known his family, but Hermione had been held close to the bosom of her relations, cherished and adored like the precious treasure she was.

He shut the door silently before going downstairs.  Unlike other pure blood wizards, he was not ignorant of a Muggle household and its appliances.  Unlike Lucius Malfoy he thought that there was some merit to learning about the Muggle world.  Actually, when you considered Muggles, who far outnumbered Wizards, they were quite brilliant.  Consider the aeroplane and the automobile. Give the Muggles enough time and they would probably even discover a scientific equivalent to apparition.  Muggles had developed microwave ovens and televisions.  The Wizarding Wireless Network was based on the Muggle creation of the radio and the Hogwarts Express was based on the Muggle creation of the steam engine, which they had long since abandoned for more modern methods of transportation.  Telephones were vastly superior to using fireplaces and although their methods of medicine may appear brutal, they were nonetheless effective.  Severus may not be as addicted to all things Muggle as Arthur Weasley, but he respected them enough to learn how to work a coffee maker and a toaster.  He also knew how to work a gas range and easily made himself a breakfast of fried eggs and bacon.  

The scent of breakfast eventually roused his least favorite student, but somehow failed to rouse the rest of the house.  Potter came trudging into the kitchen, glasses held in one hand while he rubbed the sleep from his eyes with the other.  Through the open door the distant sounds of snoring could just barely be overhead.  Severus pondered this, and then arched a brow.  "A potion?"

The boy nodded as he finished a yawn.  "I slipped some of what was left over into their tea.  They wouldn't have taken anything from you, but they figured I was safe enough."

"How much?"

"No where near what you gave Hermione.  Just three teaspoons in the pot.  They never let me share their tea, so I was safe."

Severus fought hard to keep the left corner of his lips from quirking upwards.  Perhaps some of Hermione's cleverness was rubbing off on the boy.  "That's enough to keep them out our way for at least eighteen hours."

"Should give us until about half past noon, then."  Harry put his glasses back on and made his way to the refrigerator.  Severus sipped at his coffee in silence as the boy made himself a simple breakfast of bacon, eggs and toast.  Instead of helping himself to the coffee, he poured a large glass of orange juice before joining his teacher at the kitchen table.  "What happens now?"

"As I said yesterday, Professor McGonagall is in the process of strong-arming the Ministry of Magic into assigning her as Miss Granger's legal guardian.  I understand that Molly Weasley is fighting for that privilege as well, but given that Minerva is better able financially to provide for the girl and Hogwarts is a safer stronghold than The Burrow, I am certain Minerva will win."

"But why not another relative?"

Severus topped off his coffee.  "Even if Miss Granger has any other living family outside of her dying grandfather, Muggles would be unlikely to allow her to continue her magical education.  Were she a near talent less waif who could barely hold her wand correctly, it may be a different story.  However, few Muggleborn witches and wizards are shy in talent.  If you look at the academic records since Muggleborns were allowed into Hogwarts, most of the top students have come from Muggle families."

Harry swallowed a spoonful of fried egg, his brow furrowed.  "I never knew that."

"Perhaps you should borrow your friend's copy of Hogwarts:  A History someday, Mr. Potter.  It's a fount of such tedious trivia."

"How much longer before Hermione wakes up?"  The boy washed down a bite of toast with orange juice.

"No sooner than noon.  Once she's roused and refreshed, we'll remove her to the castle.  I expect Madame Pomfrey will incarcerate her in the hospital wing for the remainder of the holidays."  Snape reached over and claimed the last bit of abandoned bacon from the boy's plate.  "Until then, however, we will need to find a way to amuse ourselves."

He watched as the bane of his existence pondered this dilemma for a long moment before shrugging.  "We have a telly and a player.  Have you ever seen 'Star Wars'?"

~***~

"Th… that's mine."

Severus turned around in the comfortable chair he had claimed and saw that Potter's enormous cousin had finally made an appearance.  With nothing better to do, he had agreed to watch 'Star Wars' with Harry.  With the exception of the main character's whining in the first movie, it was a rather good story.  They had just put in the third tape, but were forced to wait until it finished rewinding to the front from the last time it had been viewed.  "Congratulations on finding a somewhat adequate alternative to books, although reading would still serve you far better should you ever bother to learn how."

He heard Potter cut off a snigger, having overheard him on his way back from the kitchen.  He had been off to get popcorn while the tape rewound.  "Have a seat, Dudders.  We're just about to start 'Jedi'."  Severus was quite sure he only offered because Harry knew that his cousin would rather drink bubo tuber pus rather than willingly stay in the den with a pair of wizards.  Sure enough, the other boy mumbled something incoherent before hurrying back upstairs.  Harry watched him go with an expression of surprise.  "I didn't know he could move the quickly."

"Fear is a powerful motivator."

"Obviously.  Do you want some?"  He offered the bowl of popcorn towards Severus, who answered by giving him a scathing look.  "Just asking."

"I was just pondering this set of stories we're watching.  The Emperor reminds me of the Dark Lord."  

"Wait 'til you've watched the third one.  The resemblance is even more uncanny, although I will admit that Voldemort is better looking that this guy."  Severus shot the boy a dark look for speaking the name, but Potter was unconcerned.  "Who would be his 'Vader', though?"

A smirk played at the corner of Snape's mouth.  "Well, I would say Lucius Malfoy, but Draco is certainly no 'Skywalker'.  Still, there are similarities; the Jedi are not so very different from wizards, and it is their version of a dark wizard who is holding the world in fear."

"Yeah, well, at least I can be certain Voldemort will never back me into a corner and tell me he's my father."

"That is fortunate.  The last thing this world needs is another Riddle."

Potter chased a mouthful of popcorn down with a swig from a diet cola he'd taken from the refrigerator, his eyes on his professor.  The tape in the recorder make a loud *thunk* as it reached the end, but instead of picking up the remote and hitting 'play', he cleared his throat.  "Professor Snape… I wanted to say… thank you."  Severus looked at the boy with clear suspicion.  "For everything you do, I mean.  I don't like you, not even a little, but I know that you've put yourself in danger for the Order and for the students, and I'd like to think that would have saved Hermione's family if you could have done.  And, thank you for coming here and helping Hermione.  I… I didn't know what to do for her."

"There was nothing you could have done for her, Potter.  I didn't do anything for her, not really.  I only helped her shut out the memories for a time, give her the chance to regain her strength.  In the end, it will be Miss Granger who heals herself, not you, nor I, nor your friend Ronald Weasley."

The boy fell silent and eventually started the tape.  "I don't like this.  I feel… helpless.  She was targeted because of me and I can't do anything about it."

"The attack on the Grangers had nothing to do with you, Potter.    It was a gathering of dark wizards too full of their belief in their own self-importance to see what is right at the end of their noses."

"That what is at the end of their noses, Sir?"

"That killing off muggleborn witches and their families is not going to magically gift their own children with intelligence or power.  Their sons and daughters are not lacking because of some imagined injustice brought upon them by the children born of non-magical families."  

There was a curious sounding whine from somewhere up above them.  Severus looked up at the ceiling, his hand reaching automatically for his wand.  Harry, however, was unconcerned.  "It's the pipes.  The ones in the guest bath always groan like that when you first turn them on.  I used to use it as a warning system to let me know when Aunt Marge was up whenever she was staying here."

"It would appear that she's finally awake."  He let the tension that had crept into his muscle abate just a bit, leaning back into his chair but with his dark eyes still glancing at the ceiling.  

"Did your aunt clean her clothes for her?"

"I did, Sir, before I went to bed."

Snape lowered his eyes to the boy.  "Yes, I saw where you decided to sleep.  You want to be more careful, Potter.  Society in the magical world is less forgiving than in the non-magical one. A witch's reputation can be everything."

"It's not like that!"

"I am aware that it is not.  Believe me, there are enough people at the school who think that the two of you are destined soul mates that should there be a romance between you it would be shouted from the highest towers."  Severus arched a brow as the boy made a grimace.  "Is there something wrong with Miss Granger?"

"It would be like… like Ron snogging Ginny.  Hermione's like a sister to me."

"Good."  He was aware that he sounded, perhaps, a bit like a jealous man.  "Miss Granger has a good deal of potential, Mr. Potter.  It would be a shame to see her throw it away on such foolish things as boyfriends and late night rendezvous in the Astronomy Tower."  He glanced back up at the ceiling again.  The pipes were no longer groaning, but he could hear the distant sound of rushing water.  

"But that's what people our age do, Professor."

"Not all people your age, Potter.  Some keep their minds firmly on what is important."

"Some people would think love is important."

"And some people are fools."  He was keeping his eyes on the ceiling now, keening his ears for any sound of trouble.  Potter, thankfully, fell silent and turned his attention back to the muggle contraption that held the 'movie'.  Some people are fools?  He certainly had become a callous and cold-hearted individual.  He knew love was important.  He had loved his mother in his youth.  He had loved Lucius Malfoy as a brother before he realized just how much of a monster the man was.  He had even, though he'd go to his grave before he ever admitted it, loved Lily Evans when at school.  

Did he love the girl upstairs?  He didn't know what he felt about her, truthfully.  If he were to be honest with himself, he would have appreciated the opportunity to let it be known that he was fonder of the girl that he probably should be.  She had been impressive enough when she had only been the top of his potions class.  Now that she had also proven herself skilled with a blade, she was close to being everything he could have ever wanted in a protégé.  If she had been a Slytherin he would have already claimed her as such, would have begun molding and shaping her into something like a female version of himself.  He wouldn't go as far as to say that she was everything he would have wanted in a daughter of his own, but she was very close to being something like a niece.

As he heard the water shut off upstairs something clenched in his stomach.  If not for the fact that Lucius and the Dark Lord would both question it, he _could be her guardian.  If it weren't for the fact that the Death Eaters were demand he turn her over, he could throw his own name into the fray over who would gain custody of her.  Doing so, however, would put her in greater danger than she already was.  He squashed the idea almost as quickly as it began to blossom in his mind, forcing his eyes back to the lighted box where something resembling a giant slug was growling in a deep, guttural language as it addressed a rather scantily clad Leia standing before him wearing a collar and chain.  _

Severus forced himself to concentrate on the movie in order to keep himself from going upstairs and interrupting Hermione before she was ready to face the world outside her door.  Still, he was focused so intently on listening for any odd sound from upstairs and he didn't hear the dialogue of the story unfolding before him.  His eyes focused on what he felt were a very clumsy, unrealistic fighting style by the hero.  Perhaps if you were wielding a sword made of energy that could apparently burn through anything, you didn't need finesse.  Then again having opponents as idiotic as those Luke was facing didn't hurt either.

He hadn't been paying attention at the first of the film, but there was Luke's best friend, unfrozen and walking about.  Obviously they had managed to rescue him.  There was that large, hairy creature that apparently had more knowledge of Muggle contraptions than all the humans put together, and those two 'droids' that were always running around.  The golden, bipedal one reminded him of Gilderoy Lockhart, an 'expert' on everything but not as prone to come to a stop at the sight of a mirror.  He did think that the creators of the story had done a rather good job of depicting the entire battle.  It seemed disordered and hectic enough that the difficulty in keeping track of what was happening kept it from being laughable.

The story progressed to the party splitting up again; all while Severus strained his ears to listen for any sign that Hermione was leaving the guestroom upstairs.  The images returned to those of the densely vegetated world where that odd creature that resembled a green-skinned goblin lived.   He had the feeling that the drama on the little screen was supposed to be touching, but something was pulling his attention upstairs.  Something soft and low was drifting down the stairs towards him. His hand pulled out his wand immediately, pointing it towards the box.  "Silencio!."  

Now that the music and voices were silenced, he could better tell what the noise was.  The sound was mournful and growing in volume, but what was more unsettling was the sound that was running along side it.  It took him a moment to recognize it for what it was:  the very timbers of the house were starting to tremble.   Since he doubted that England was in the grip of a freak earthquake, it could only be a very powerful witch in the state of deep distress.  If he didn't get her under control quickly she would bring the house crashing down around their ears.  Potter was already headed towards the opening that separated the den from the hallway, but Severus grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him out of his way so that he could run up the stairs himself.  

Petunia Durlsey had finally awakened from the sleeping draught and was in a state of panic as she tried to catch the framed pictures of her son as the force of the shaking caused them to fall from the walls.  Dudley's whimpers could barely be heard over the now ear-spitting wail that was clearly heard.  The sound was so tragic, so powerful that it felt as though it were a clawed hand with its talons tearing into Severus' very heart.  Some part of his mind knew that this was the result of the magic in the girl, a powerful projection of raw emotion that sought to choke the joy out of everything around it.  It was the driving force behind Dudley's whimpers and the cause of the tears now coursing down Petunia's cheeks as her shoulders wracked with sobs in spite of being occupied with trying to catch the photographs. If he Ministry could find a way to capture that force they would never have to worry about the defection of the Dementors again.  

He kicked open the door to the guest room just as the mirror above the dresser began to crack in a spider's web of lines.  He doubted that the wailing girl on her knees beside the bed and with her face buried in the coverlet had any awareness of the havoc she was causing.  Unchained power whipped out at him, making his robes and hair twist and billow.  He ignored it, pushing the danger of the act out of his mind as he approached her.  He heard Potter's footsteps thundering towards him but knew he couldn't allow the boy to endanger himself by staying in this room.  Severus reached out and gripped Hermione by her shoulders, pulling her from the bed so he could get a better hold of her.  "Potter!  Get out!"

"What's wrong with her?!" came the boy's frightened response.

"Get Out!"  She was hot to the touch, enough so that he wouldn't be surprised if the skin of his hands blistered from the contact.  An older, weaker man would have likely died from the force of the energy pouring from her.  He was busy trying to fight his own survival instincts as they wanted him to flee from her.  What he was going to do could be labeled as suicide, but it was him or four other innocent lives.

He scooped her up into his arms and sat down upon the bed, holding her in his lap with his arms about her.  He didn't know any words of comfort that may make her pain less, he doubted that any existed.  Having never had a child of his own he had no experience with this sort of thing.  He supposed that Molly Weasley would know exactly what to do or say, and although her words would not cure the pain they would likely calm the girl down.  But just holding her seemed to be working to some fashion.  She was starting to breathe more between cries and she was starting to shed tears now, the proof of them being the growing dampness on the shoulders and chest of his robes as she was apparently unable to keep still.  After a short eternity she quieted down to little more than sniffles, long after the house had fallen silent.  

But her silence of unnerving.  He understood that she was heart broken and bleeding inside, but surely she needed to speak.  The Hermione he knew would want the names of her family's killers, and unlike he had with Potter, he would tell her willingly because he could trust her not to fly into a bloodthirsty rage.  He'd write her a list if she wanted, along with their addresses, because he knew that she would give the matter careful thought and make sure she was prepared before she struck.  He had come to trust her that much.  If she kept the rest of the pain bottled up inside her, however, it was likely to break out when it was least expected and level all that was around her.  The average student at Hogwarts, the average fully-grown witch or wizard, would not have had enough power to shake the foundations of a two story house.  He had always suspected that the girl was something special, but the proof of her power as he had witnessed just less than an hour before was terrifying.  He couldn't take a ticking bomb back to the school.

"Still more, I think, Hermione.  You have to let everything out."

Internally he braced himself for another onslaught of raw magic, but the feeble, physical strike at his person was unexpected.  Had he been wrong?  Was she played out for the moment?  The first blow was soon followed by another, stronger one.  Then another fell and another until she burst into a fury of punches and scratches.  He briefly thought that he had trained her too well during their bouts as he found himself protecting his more vulnerable spots.  More than once her fingers had made for his eyes, determined to gouge them out, and he had only just stopped her.  Curses and oaths she would normally be scandalized to even hear poured from her lips, making him doubt she had any idea what she was saying.  She twisted and turned to get a more stable position from which to strike until she was straddling his thighs.  When her aim became too true for him to safely fend off he gripped her wrists tightly to keep her sharp fists from connecting again.  He saw her head rear back slightly in preparation and had just enough forethought to tilt his face to one side as it came back down.  In spite of the three layers of thick fabric covering him there was still pain from the sharp teeth now attempting to tear into his shoulder.  

"Merlins' B…!"  He clenched his jaw to keep from finishing the detail of the personal anatomy of one of the world's greatest wizards.  That bite was going to leave a monstrous bruise, but he didn't care as the girl started to cry again.  The sound was muffled as she hadn't yet let go of his shoulder, but the sound seemed less fragmented than before.  He felt it was finally safe to leg to of her wrists and brought his arms up and around her.  One encompassed her waist, pulling her closer to him until not even a slip of paper could have fit between them.  Eventually she let go of his shoulder and turned her face so that her cheek rested on the shoulder and her breath, still smelling of the toothpaste and mouth rinse she had used, drifted warm and moist over his jaw.  He entwined his fingers into her hair, where even the usually frizzy curls had seemed to go limp from exhaustion.

He felt the tension inside him loosen.  He couldn't be sure, of course, but something in his gut told him that she was finally played out.  "That's better.  That's much better."  The pleased relief was in his voice, and he knew it.  If she could make it through this one night, she could make it through the rest of it.  "You will survive this.  They cannot touch you."

No, they could not touch her.  They _would not_ touch her.  During his fight to save his vision while letting her take out her sorrows on him, he had experienced an epiphany.  Let the Ministry assign whomever they wanted as her guardian, he would have the most influence on her life.  Let Minerva try to rebuild her by showing her with books or let Molly try to smother her with love, he would salvage what was left of Hermione with sword and steel.  

Overcome with a mixture of pride and affection, he turned his face to place a soft kiss at Hermione's temple.  The curls tickled his nose and flooded his nostrils with a clean, innocent scent.  "They tried to break you, but you will show them all.  My brave, beautiful girl, you will show them."  She was more than just an under-aged witch at this moment, more than a war orphan.  She was heated steel, white-hot and waiting for a blacksmith's hammer to come down upon her.  Even as true sleep tugged at her, pulling her away and making her bones go limp, he could still detect the waiting strength inside of her.  Lucius Malfoy had just handed the Order it's most powerful weapon, and the fool didn't even realize it.  

Severus indulged himself in one last, brief embrace, nuzzling the girl's soft hair with his eyes closed.  He would not get the chance to show such affection once they were back at school.  At Hogwarts they would have to pretend to be cold to one another, hiding their friendship from prying eyes.  Once he stepped out of this very room he would once again be nothing more than her teacher.  He would savor this final moment with his protégé, even if her position as such would only be known to the two of them.

"You will be the death of them all."


	4. Chapter Four

Severus didn't bother to place her underneath the covers.  He doubted that they would be in this house much longer.  Albus and Minerva would arrive soon to lay claim to the students and take them back to the school.  Instead he removed the slumbering girl from his lap and placed her upon the bed, smoothing her hair down with one hand before leaving her there.  Potter was still standing in the hallway as he shut the door behind him.  The boy's green eyes were wide and all color had fled his face.

"P…professor?"

Severus arched one inky black brow and pinned the boy with one of his best stares.  "Still afraid that she can't take care of herself, Mr. Potter?"  The boy swallowed and shook his head.  "Frightened."  Harry nodded.  "Pity, I had hoped you would not have the sense to realize what all that meant and prove once and for all that you are a fool.  It would appear that you have a brain after all."

He heard a squeaking sound from behind him and turned to stare at the Dursleys, Petunia and Dudley attempting to hide behind Vernon, who had his fists raise as though ready to be attacked.  Severus only had to raise one brow in the man's direction to start him backing down.  He watched as the Dursleys hurried into the master bedroom, the door slamming shut behind them.

"What now, Professor?"

"Now we wait until the Headmaster arrives along with whoever is fighting for custody of your friend."  Severus looked at the end of the hall where a clock was mounted on the wall.  "It shouldn't be much longer."  He moved away from the closed bedroom door and the now reserved student to return downstairs.  

It didn't take long at all for the others to arrive.  With a series of pops Albus, Minerva, Arthur, Molly, Kingsley and Tonks apparated into the Dursleys' living room.  The Dursleys were still holed up in the master bedroom, so their arrival was without too much fuss with the exception of Molly.  Minerva was still visibly shaken by the destruction of nearly the entire Granger clan, but she was holding herself tightly in check.  Molly, however, looked as though she had just gotten over a glorious cry and was still trying to stem the flow of tears from her eyes.  Arthur wrapped a comforting arm about his wife's shoulders.

Dumbledore's eyes met Snape's.  The death of students and their families was a painful subject for all the school faculty and this war had brought such things about all too often.  As much as Albus doted on Potter, however, he still held a place in his heart for Hermione Granger.  Potter was the hero, but Granger was the one whom he held up like a diamond whenever pureblood members of the school governors started to question the validity of Muggleborns being admitted to Hogwarts.  Granger, who had shattered most of the Dark Lord's old academic records and whom Albus half believed would take his place as head of the school one day.  Severus knew that right now the Headmaster was questioning whether he had been foolish to crow so proudly about the girl's achievements, wondering if he hadn't brought undue attention to her.  He watched as the aging wizard forced the years from his face and offered a gentle, reassuring smile to Potter once he spied the boy.

"Where is she, Severus?"

"Upstairs, Minerva.  She's just had a good, strong cry and it resting.  It shouldn't be too much trouble to wake her for the journey."  The witch nodded and left the living room.  He knew that he didn't need to tell her which room held the girl, just as he hadn't really needed to tell her where she was in the first place.  Minerva McGonagall had a sixth sense when it came to locating her precious 'lion cubs'.  Molly had grabbed hold of Potter and was now fussing over him, which should keep her busy for at least a half of an hour.  That left him to deal with Albus, Arthur and two Aurors.  

"The Ministry of Magic felt a debriefing was in order, Severus."

"So I gathered.  Can this not wait until we're safely back within the castle, Headmaster?  It's imperative that we return the students there."

"He's got a point there, Kingsley.  That was a deliberate attack on Hermione, it was.  She'll be safer at the school."  Kinglsey nodded in silent agreement with is fellow Auror.  Tonks grinned at Snape.  "Mad Eye was all for coming as well, but as we're here 'officially', it wouldn't do to have an ex-Auror with us."

Severus managed to keep the smirk from his face.  If the Dursleys had this much trouble with just their nephew and he in their house, they would have all had massive coronaries if Mad Eye Moody had been thrown in to the mix.  He shouldn't let the thought of such an even bring him such joy.  "Were any of her belongings salvaged?"

Arthur sighed.  "I'm afraid not.  The Muggle fire brigade wasn't able to make it in time.  The house and everything in it were a complete loss.  We understand that…" he made a choking sound in the back of his throat.  He took of his glasses and cleaned them while he regained his composure.  "We understand that they have moved the bodies to something called a Morgue, where they are attempting to identify who is whom.  It will be some time before there can be an official… an official funeral service."

Severus had always been fascinated by the Muggle professionals called 'coroners'.  It wasn't that he enjoyed the thought of slicing into dead bodies; it was that they could tell so much by doing so.  One of his guilty little pleasures was to read books detailing criminal investigations solved through forensics.  Every inch of skin and bone could possibly offer up the clues needed to bring murderers to justice.  He was no stranger to death and knew it would be disgusting, grueling work, and he held those who had the knowledge and disposition to perform it in the highest esteem.  "Who was granted custody?"

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Molly stiffen even as Albus answered.  "The Ministry has decided that it would be in Miss Granger's best interests if she remained within the protection of the school and have, therefore, granted custody to Minerva McGonagall."

"So Minerva Junior is to stay the summer, is she?"  He tightly reigned in his pleasure at this.  For a brief moment in time he had wondered if Molly's extensive knowledge of raising healthy, well-balanced children might not give her an edge over his colleague.  "At least she is unlikely to be underfoot, as long as Madam Pince agrees to let her into the library."

Molly sputtered with indignation.  "How can you make light of this?  That child has lost her family!"

Albus raised a hand. "Molly, calm yourself.  Severus is fully aware of the gravity of this situation."  The Headmaster turned his attention to the entry way over Snape's shoulder, causing the Potions Master to turn to see what was going on.  Minerva had returned, an arm about the shoulders of a rather subdued Miss Granger.  "Ah, excellent."  Reaching into his robes, Albus pulled out a long bit of scarlet ribbon.  He set it down upon a low lying coffee table, pointed his wand at it and said "Portus".  It glowed with a blue light for a moment before fading back to silken scarlet.  "Very good.  This should be long enough for all of us to use.  If everyone would be so kind…"

They were about to all reach for the ribbon when Potter remembered something.  "Hang on a moment."  He scurried from the room and returned a bit later with Snape's traveling kit.  "We almost forgot this, Professor."  He offered to Severus, who gave a silent nod of thanks, before reaching out to touch the ribbon.

The Headmaster's office came into focus after a whirlwind of colors and light.  Hermione, already tired from her ordeal, began to tumble forward.  Severus' arms reached out to right her again before he could think to stop himself.  Trying to behave as though there was nothing unusual about the Potions Master showing random kindness and concern for a student, he led her to one of the squashy armchairs situated before the Headmaster's desk.  However, when he moved to step away from her one slender hand came up to wrap around his wrist and hold it to her shoulder.

Albus sat down in his chair and looked over his desk at Hermione.  The twinkle was gone from his eyes and sadness seemed to be pushing him into the fine leather.  "Miss Granger, I am not going to insult you by telling you I know how you feel at this moment.  I will remind you, however, that you are not alone.  There are other students in this school who have lost most if not all of their families as you have just done, students who _do_ know how you feel.  While I am not going to insist you start a support group the first day after the holidays, I will ask that you not shut them out entirely."

Hermione made some soft sound of non-committal in her throat.  Potter had moved a chair to her side and was now holding her hand in both of his, his eyes watching her closely.

"I know it is painful for you at this moment, but there are matters that need to be clarified.  With all but your surviving grandfather gone we had to move quickly to find you a guardian.  Molly and Arthur were very willing to take on the job, of course, but the Ministry has agreed to grant Professor McGonagall full custody of you until you become of age.  At the end of the school term you will remain at the school with those members of the faculty that wish to stay.

"Unfortunately we were unable to salvage any of your belongings from the house.  Sometime before the school reconvenes we will need you to make a list of what items need replacing.  We cannot let you go to purchase them yourself, not under the circumstances." 

"Yes, sir."  Her voice was soft and slightly cracked.  Severus felt her fingers tighten around his own briefly.  His girl was still in there, only shaken up harder than she could have imagined possible.  

"If you would like solitude, we can arrange for you to have different quarters, someplace apart from your fellow classmates."

"No, sir.  I'll… I'll stay where I am."

The Headmaster peered at her over the top of his half-moon spectacles for a long moment before nodding.  "Very well, then.  Professor McGonagall and I have some final matters to discuss, and I believe Molly and Arthur want to return to the Burrow so that they can return Ron and Ginny here for support.  Harry, if you would stay here a while longer.  I believe Kingsley and Tonks would like to question you about what happened at the Grangers'.  Severus, if you would be so kind as to escort Miss Granger to her room?"

Severus nodded and stood back, pulling his hand from Hermione's grasp as she stood.  The girl kept her eyes downcast as she allowed him to take her from the room and down the spiral staircase outside the Headmaster's door.  

The empty corridors of Hogwarts echoed their footsteps eerily.  With most of the students gone home for the holidays, the two of them being in this place seemed unnatural.  They walked along in silence until they came to the portrait that guarded the entrance to Gryffindor Tower.  The gossips that dwelled among the school's paintings had obviously gotten word to The Fat Lady about what had happened, as evidenced by the image's tear stained cheeks and now sodden handkerchief.  She broke out into a fresh wave of sobs when she caught sight of Hermione.  The painting was so distraught she didn't even demand the password; she merely swung open on her hinges as she blew her nose.  Severus rolled his eyes at the lack of security.

"Miss Granger, it occurs to me that under normal circumstances you and I are to have a standing engagement for tomorrow evening."

Hermione looked up from the floor to meet his gaze.  "Yes, Professor."

"However, under _these _circumstances I feel it best if we forgo tomorrow's appointment."  He watched a puzzled frown cross her young face.  "I feel that you have progressed beyond the level of practice we have been indulging in and are in need of a greater challenge.  I had not expected you to return to the school so soon, so I have not had time to prepare for the changes I have in mind.  I require the extra time to put them in place and you require the time to try and put yourself in order."

She studied his face in silence, the weight of her gaze almost palpable. She swallowed hard and nodded once.  "As you wish, Professor."

"Very good.  Now, off to bed with you before your new guardian comes riding down upon us in all her fury."  He attempted a reassuring smile, but was painfully aware it still came out as his trademarked smirk.  To compensate, he gave her an awkward pat on the shoulder that ended up as a caress over her head.  "Good night, Hermione.  All will be well."

"Good night, Professor."  She turned and walked through the portrait hole.  He watched her until she vanished up the steps that led to the girls' dormitories before he turned away and headed towards the dungeons.  There was work to be done, wards and spells to be duplicated.  It was impossible to kill someone in their practice room because of the heavy enchantments there, but it was the only room in the castle with such protections.  For what he had in mind they would require someplace bigger and more Spartan.  There was a room in the dungeons that was perfect for the task.  

He was aware of the risk he would be taking.  The amount of power required to set the wards would leave him drained and weakened for several days.  Should the Dark Lord call him before he had time to recover, he couldn't be sure he would be able to keep his thoughts to himself.  She was worth the risk, however.  Lucius had handed him heated metal, white hot but formless, and like a master sword smith, he would need to strike before Hermione began to cool.  

He had almost made it to the dungeons when there was a crashing sound behind him.  Of course, the Aurors.  He had forgotten about them.  With a resigned sigh he turned to watch Tonks scramble to her feet after having tripped over the foot of a suit of armour.  "Auror Tonks."

"Sorry 'bout that.  Didn't see him."  She brushed herself off and gave him an apologetic smile.  "Sorry to put you through this, Severus, but we need your report."

"Of course.  Thank you for keeping Moody out of this."

"It wasn't easy.  He was chomping at the bit for a chance to grill you himself.  You owe me a night on the town for that one."

"As long as it doesn't include dancing, you're on."  The young woman laughed.  She had long since gotten over the fear she'd had of him when she had been his student.  He had to admit that he was relieved at this.  It wouldn't have made for a comfortable working relationship if she'd been too frightened to speak up around him.  "You left Kingsley with Potter, then?"

"Yeah, I did.  I think there's a bit of hero worship, there.  Harry looking up to Kingsley, I mean."  She rubbed her hands together.  "Right then, shall we get on with it?  It's been a long night for everyone and I'm sure you'd like to get to bed."

"Of course." He bowed slightly and indicated the door leading to the dungeons.  "After you, Nymphadora."

Tonks glared at him as she walked by.  "You'll pay for that one, Severus."

~***~

"Professor?"

Severus turned to look at the girl standing in the open door way.  Hermione was dressed in her usual attire for fencing and was feeling the chill of the dungeons quite clearly.  Her skin was taking on a decidedly blue tinge and her chin was shaking from the effort of keeping her teeth from chattering.  

"It's about time you showed up.  Come in and shut the door."

She did as she was told, the heavy oaken door slamming shut with a thud.  She still wore a pair of flexible shoes as she entered the center of the room and looked about her.  What had been an empty stone room with bare walls and floor now was lit with torches on the wall.  Faceless dummies lined the walls, all humanoid in shape.  An array of blades stood ready in a glass case lined with crimson velvet and a thickly padded carpet now protected human feet from the stone floor.  Furnishing the room had been the easy part.  He still felt worn and thinly stretched from the spell casting.  He would have asked the Headmaster to do it, but Albus already had too much of his being tightly interwoven into the school wards. He didn't want to tax the man any further. 

"Normally I would deliver a blistering scolding with this, but I shall grant you a reprieve this one time."  He reached into his robes and took out the wooden wand case.  Hermione's eyes widened as she realize what it was.  "However, if I ever find that you have been so careless gain, the nine hells will seem like paradise when I am through with you."  With a glare he slammed the case into her outstretched hand.  

"Thank you, Professor."  She slipped the wand case into the outer pocket of the loose robe she wore over her practice clothes.  She shrugged the cloth from her shoulders and hung it on a hook just inside the door.  "Are you feeling well, Professor?  You look tired."

"Very observant of you, Miss Granger.  As a matter of fact, I am perfectly healthy, although I am tired.  I have just spent the better part of two days putting up the same protective wards on this room as what we've been practicing under upstairs.  It has taken quite a bit out of me."

"Shall we wait until our next meeting then?"

"No, we shall not.  I have made arrangements for your practice.  Now, warm up."  She nodded and moved to the center of the room while he made his way to a seat by the wall.  It was a pleasure to watch her move, to see just how flexible the human body could be if one took enough care to keep it supple.  He studied her as she twisted and turned in ways that he would be hard pressed to duplicate himself.  

He noticed other things as well.  For example, he could see that there was an ashen pallor to her skin and her eyes were dull from pain. Even her hair seemed to be in mourning as it hung limp and lifeless in a braided rope that trailed down the length of her spine.  Minerva had been fussing in the staff room earlier that she hadn't been able to get the girl to eat, but Poppy had suggested that they give her some time.  As long as the girl was drinking water, she could survive a few days without food.  

After going through her full regime, the young witch got back to her feet.  "The saber today, Miss Granger.  The weight of the blade should help you relieve pent up tensions."  She moved to the case and selected her weapon before turning around to look questioningly at her mentor.  He gave a smirk and made a gesture with his wand.  One of the dummies along the wall sprung to life and moved to the center of the room.  In the flickering light of the torches it became apparent that the automaton was armed with a blade of its own.  

"These creations are designed to mimic my own style of fighting.  The protective wards keep us from unleashing everything against one another, but you will not be so restrained now.  The dummy blades aren't real. Should they manage to strike you they will hit hard enough to leave you a painful bruise to remind you of your carelessness, but they will shatter upon impact.  You, however, will be able to achieve penetration with your own blade.  Striking in what would be a vital spot on the dummy will cause it to 'die'.  Please bear in mind that the more quickly you dispatch your foe, the less likely you are to be struck."

She turned her eyes curiously to the faceless thing standing before her.  It appeared to be nothing more than a life-sized doll made of white cotton, but it raised its arm to give a salute as though it were a serious duelist.  Not looking entirely sure of the situation, Hermione answered it and the duel began.  Severus watched from his seat by the wall, his black eyes examining every move.  His girl was lacking heart.  She usually put so much more of herself into the sport, but there was very little of herself to give at the moment.  Her movements where mechanical and without fire.  Twice he replaced the dummy because the previous ones had gotten through and their blades had been destroyed.  Before long he was on his feet, pacing.

"No, no, no!"  With an impatient wave of his hand he sent the dummy back to its spot by the wall.  "What was that?  Is that a sword in your hand or a fly swatter?"  He ran his hands through his hair in frustration.  

"I'm sorry, sir."

"Sorry?  Two blades made it to your skin, Miss Granger.  If they had been real opponents you would be dead right now!"

"Yes, Professor."  She reached up to rub the impact site just under her left breast.  Already a spectacular bruise was blossoming there, creeping past the edges of her sports bra.  

Severus looked at the girl before him.  Perhaps he had pushed her into this too quickly.  Perhaps he should have given her more time to grieve.  He had thought that throwing her right back into training might help to break through the pain somewhat, help her regain her focus.  Now he wasn't so sure.  Perhaps he should resume their one on one sessions until she had cried her tears.  

Then a thought cross his mind.  Perhaps she just needed a little incentive.

"Miss Granger, close your eyes and do not open them until I tell you to do so."

She obeyed readily, shutting her eyes and taking deep, measured breaths.  Severus pulled his wand from one of his inner robe pockets and pointed it at the dummies.  The spell was simple enough for Transfiguration.  The shapeless forms began to shift and change into something a little more likely to capture the girl's attention.  

One of the dummies moved forward on his command and faced Hermione.  Severus moved to stand behind her and leaned down to whisper in her ear.  "Now open your eyes, Miss Granger."  He heard her gasp as she obeyed again, and found herself staring at a Death Eater.  "There is your enemy, Miss Granger, there is your monster.  No human being could do what has been done.  Nothing with a soul could wipe out an entire family just for being born Muggles.  There is the beast that has caused you such pain."

A sensation like electricity danced along his spine, letting him know that he was getting through to her.  He allowed his eyes to flick down to the hand clutching the saber and was pleased to see that the knuckles had gone white.  He had told her once before that passion, anger and frustration were death to the duelist, but he needed her to unleash those emotions now.  He could deal with finesse and control later.  "Now… begin."

He stepped back and watched as Hermione and the Death Eater Dummy each gave a salute.  This time it was a far different story.  Hermione was sharper, more determined.  He allowed himself a satisfied smirk as he watched her deflect every attempt to strike her with efficiency and precision.  Her first attempt at a killing strike was a bit awkward since she had never actually tried to run a body through before, but her opponent 'died' and was cleared away as the next one took its place.

He was watching her dispatch her third dummy when the space next to him plummeted in temperature.  The temperature change was accompanied by a pearly, iridescent light.  "Hello, Baron."

"Are you really going to go through with this?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"There hasn't been an Enforcer in over seven hundred years."

"Over eight hundred, actually."

Hermione found a hole in the dummy's defense and plunged her blade into the place where his kidney would be.  The dummy 'died' and was replaced by another.

"Are you thinking with the head on your shoulders or the one dangling between your legs?"

Severus turned his head quickly enough that he heard the vertebra snap and pop in protest.  "I beg your pardon?"

"Come on!  The chit's pretty enough, destined to become your intellectual equal and shares your same likes and dislikes.  If she weren't a student I'd wager real money you would have had her bent over your work table months ago."

"I refuse to dignify that comment with a response."  He turned back to watch as the dummy managed to get through Hermione's defenses.  The blade shattered as it impacted with her chest.  Both Severus and the Baron arched a brow in surprise.  They hadn't realized that a Gryffindor would know that particular obscenity.  She rubbed the spot briefly as another dummy stepped forward.

"Well, if you insist on doing this, she's going to have to get better.  She's good as she is now, but she'll have to be close to perfection to impress Takehito."

"Takehito?"  Severus returned his attention to the Blood Baron.  

"Hadn't gotten that far, had you, Pup.  You should read your books more carefully.  To create the blade used by an Enforcer one must include a core of dragon heart string that has been soaked in a potion containing the intended wielder's blood.  That means that the sword must be made by folding the metal, not simply beating it.  The Japanese have always been the masters of such blades, and Takehito is the only Japanese wizard currently alive who bothers with sword making."

"You've been busy."

"I thought that this might be your plan when I saw you redecorating."  They watched as Hermione dodged a lunge from her opponent and countered with a jab to the throat.  "I will admit that she's far better than I would have expected."

"For a Muggleborn?"

"For a woman.  You forget when I lived, Snape.  The sword was still very much in fashion in my time and I saw more than one wizard fall to a Muggle because the wizard thought he knew how to use a sword and the Muggle knew he did."

"She's had a lot of practice."

"Obviously.  There is one more minor detail remaining in making your girl here an Enforcer."

Severus nodded in approval as Hermione faced off against another dummy.  "You speak of the Oath."

"I do.  The best Enforcers were Hufflepuffs.  Only makes sense when you consider that a true Enforcer is bound by the Oath to serve another.  It requires a heart of utter and complete loyalty, and lacking in selfishness.  You girl's thirst for revenge may make things tricky."

"I will concede that _most_ of the Enforcers were Hufflepuffs, but there were others from the other houses. Slytherin even produced a few.  Besides, I have known this girl for six years.  I do not question her loyalty.  I've seen where she came from.  She was raised in loyalty."  Severus smiled as he watched Hermione move against her opponent.  "She has what it takes to walk this road."

"So who will get the benefit of the Oath then?  Dumbledore?  Potter?  The Order itself?"

"I will."

"You?"  The Baron shook his head in amazement.  "When there were Enforcers they bound themselves to powerful witches and wizards who needed someone they could trust to watch their backs.  They guarded aristocracy and the leaders of nations.  What makes you think that you deserve such a prize?"

Severus nodded in silent approval once more as the last of the dummies fell.  "Because I am the only one who could appreciate her."


	5. Chapter Five

By the time the students had returned to the school the news of what had occurred at the Grangers' residence had been the lead story in _The Daily Prophet for four days.  Severus watched with thinly veiled disgust as the less compassionate students craned their necks towards the Gryffindor table to catch a glimpse of Hermione Granger.  His own Slytherins, with one or two exceptions, even appeared to be gloating.  He sought out young Malfoy's face with keen interest and noted that the usually obnoxious boy did not appear willing to join his companions in their barbs and jibes.  Perhaps there __was hope for him after all._

As Poppy had predicted, Hermione did start to eat again, though sparingly.  Virginia and Ronald Weasley had arrived within hours of her return to Hogwarts and, along with Potter, had taken up the task to watch over their friend.  Hermione was always seated between the two boys and Virginia was present whenever possible.  He also noted expressions of guilt among the students at the Gryffindor table, something that confused him at first.  He brought up the subject with Poppy over breakfast.

"I had noticed that, too, but Lavender Brown came to the hospital wing in near hysterics.  She thought perhaps something was wrong with her because when she found out about the attacks her first thought was to wonder if Hermione was safe."

"Why would that mean something was wrong?"

"Because she completely discounted the rest of the family as though they were nothing.  The students were primarily concerned for their housemate and feel that they didn't have enough compassion for the lives that were lost.  I'm still trying to convince them that they aren't a lot of prejudiced snots."

Potions class was an interesting change.  As so often happened when Severus was removed from the classroom during the exams, the most unlikely students passed their OWLs.  Longbottom actually managed an O, which Snape hoped was indication that the clever brain that excelled in Herbology had finally kicked in and realized that Potions was simply an extension of that class.  What surprised Snape even more was that the boy had actually signed up for Advanced Potions.  Apparently he had dreams of becoming an Auror like his mother and father before him.  This thought would frighten him if he hadn't seen the boy begin to come into his own over the past year.

Longbottom was also one of those who would more clearly understand what had befallen his classmate.  Just as the Headmaster had expected, it was long after the return of the students that others who had lost most or all of their families were approaching Hermione.  There was strength in numbers, and this eclectic gathering of students lent their strength to helping one another heal.  Many were Muggleborns who, like Hermione, had been relocated.  Aurors were famous for taking in war orphans, as were higher ranking Ministry officials and the higher ranking Healers at St. Mungo's.  After his own debriefing by Nymphadora Tonks, Severus had been shocked to learn that along with Minerva and Molly, Alastor Moody had volunteered for guardianship of his girl as well.  Thank Merlin that petition hadn't been accepted!

All these observations played over in his mind as he watched Hermione duel with a practice dummy.  "Stop!"  Both she and the dummy froze in response of the barked command.  Severus walked forward and tapped Hermione's shoulder with the flat of his blade.  "You're doing it again, Miss Granger.  By holding your blade that low you are allowing your shoulder to become a target.  I assure you that you would find fencing a great deal more difficult if you received injury to that particular body part."  He used his saber to bring up her blade.  "You are also dangerously close to missing your own target.  With the exception of the very petite, the hearts of most of your enemies will be slightly higher than your own chest height.  Come at it from slightly to the left and at an upward angle, and you will have a better chance of slipping between the ribs and into the heart muscle itself."

"Yes, sir."

Severus gave a curt nod and stepped back.  "Resume!"  The duelist picked up where they had left off immediately.  Within three moves Hermione had dispatched her opponent.  "Excellent improvement, Miss Granger."  He surveyed his pupil with sharp eyes.  Her skin was quickly loosing that mottled look from bruising, but not as quickly as he would have liked.  "You have run out of salve."  It was not a question.

"Yes, sir."

"You should have said something."  He pulled out his wand and gave it a flick.  The swords and the dummies were restored.  "Go through the exercise again.  I will be back shortly."  He stayed only long enough to square off with the first dummy before sweeping out of the room.

All in all, he was quite pleased with her progress.  She was still adhering to the polite rules of engagement at this time, but she was becoming better able to anticipate her opponent's attack.  This was more easily done if the opponent had eyes, because the eyes would almost always give away the next move.  If she could learn to do it without the boon of other duelist's expression, all the better.  Still, eventually he would have to shake her to her very foundations and remind her that not all opponents played by the gentlemanly rules of combat.  She was going to have to learn to fight dirty if this was going to work.

The stack of tins was exactly where he had left them when they had made them together.  It was noticeably shorter now, but Hermione was becoming good enough that she needed less and less of it.  Yes, all in all he was very pleased with her progress.  He took up one of the tins and made his way back towards the practice room.  As he rounded the corner, however, he spotted a familiar form edging its way to the door.

Severus paused as Draco peered into the room.  He waited until the boy dared to enter before moving forward with a light, stealthy pace.  He looked around the corner of the door jamb and made sure that Draco and Hermione were both facing the opposite direction for slipping into the room.  He stayed flush with the wall so that the dark shadows made by torchlight hid him from sight.  

Draco stood in silence, his hands thrust into the pockets of his trousers as he watched Hermione.  From this angle Severus could see that the boy's mouth was slightly open as though dumbstruck.  He stared at his classmate as she dispatched dummy after dummy until the seventh (and last) one fell.  "Blood Hell, Granger.  Where did you learn that?"

Hermione turned sharply, her sword at the ready.  Severus watched as her eyes narrowed.  "Malfoy?  What are you doing in here?"

Draco ignored her and walked towards one of the downed dummies.  "They're Death Eaters.  They all look like Death Eaters."

"They're only dummies."  Snape noted the almost cat-like grace Hermione moved with as she circled out and around from Draco, her sword still up.  The boy was too busy studying the dummies to note that she was putting herself between him and the exit.  "I don't think the Headmaster would approve if I brought in real Death Eaters to practice on."

"Merlin's Balls, Granger!  They're not going to come after with swords!  You should be studying hexes and curses, not this stuff."  He turned to where she had been standing, noted that she was no longer there, and then found her directly behind him.  Severus smirked as he watched the silver-blue eyes widen in shock.  "What are you doing?  Point that thing somewhere else."

"Choose your blade."

"What?"

"I happen to have it on good authority that Lucius Malfoy knows his way around a fencing match.  Surely he took the time to teach you.  After all that would be the pompous, arrogant, elitist, _pureblood thing to do.  Choose your blade."_

Snape reached slowly in his robes for his wand, just in case.  Hermione couldn't really harm the boy, not in this room, but that may not keep her from trying.  A witch in mourning was often an unpredictable creature, and Draco was currently too frightened to hold his own against this particular witch.  The boy's face had gone even paler than usual and Severus could detect a slight tremor in his stance.

"Don't be ridiculous, Granger.  I haven't held a sword since I was twelve!"

"Then you have been sloppy and remiss.  There are swords in that case over on the wall."

"Are you mad?  I'm no match for you!"

Hermione moved forward with a speed Severus had seldom seen before.  She rested the tip of her sword at Draco's throat, her voice a deadly whisper.  "Choose.  Your.  Blade."

Draco backed away from the sword point, hardly daring to take his eyes off the girl.  She had been practicing for a while, long enough that vapor from her heated skin rose in the cold air of the dungeons.  The effect gave the impression of an avenging demon freshly summoned out of the Abyss.  The pure intimidation factor wasn't lost on Severus, and he felt a stab of pride that his girl had mastered the use of it so quickly.  

Draco returned timidly to the spot before Hermione with an epee to match her own.  She had been trying for speed this session and had forgone the heavier sabers.  Satisfied that her opponent was now properly armed, she brought her sword up in a salute.  

"Wait?  We don't have any masks or padding?"

"Scared, Malfoy?"  There was a teasing quality in her voice.  Draco swallowed hard and returned her salute.  Severus' fingers tightened around his wand and he pulled it out to let his arm hang loose and ready at his side.  

Draco was too uncertain of his current predicament to make the first move, although Hermione gave him ample opportunity to do so.  When she finally attacked the boy was put on the defensive.  Snape's eyes quickly monitored every movement executed by the girl.  In short time it became apparent that she was holding back and he allowed himself to relax.  Hermione clearly did not intend any permanent harm against Draco, but she was determined to give him the beating of his life.

Severus returned his wand to his pocket and leaned against the wall, folding his arms over his chest.  Draco was hideously outmatched.  Lucius had attempted to teach the boy how to fence because it was the 'genteel' thing to do, but his son's heart had never been in it.  Right now Draco's lax behavior in lessons was painfully clear.  Hermione found her way through his weak defenses without trouble and twice she managed to knock the sword from his hand, pausing only long enough to let him pick it back up.  It was almost laughable.

Eventually, Hermione grew tired with playing with her 'toy'.  She made an unexpected attack that caused Draco to fall in his attempt to escape her.  His epee was forgotten as he crab-walked backwards.  Severus arched a brow as he watched Hermione press forward.  She took the tip of her blade and touched it to Draco's throat.  The boy was frozen with fear, unable to utter so much as a squeak.  She brought up her other hand and placed it over the one holding the sword as though she meant to plunge it into her opponent with all her strength, her movements slow and deliberate.

"Stop!"  Severus detached himself from the shadows.  As she had been trained, Hermione froze instantly.  Draco let out a sigh of relief as his Head of House approached the insane Gryffindor.  "Miss Granger, you are being unnecessarily dramatic.  If Mr. Malfoy here had been a Death Eater then he would have likely had allies with him, any one of whom could have killed you while you wasted your time playing with him.  Dispatch your targets quickly and efficiently.  This is not a game of cat and mouse."

"Yes, sir."  

"Now back off of him and clean up this mess.  That will be enough for tonight."  Hermione stepped back, letting Draco scramble to his feet.  "Come with me, Mr. Malfoy."  He waited for the boy to skirt around Hermione; as if afraid she would lunge at him again, and walk towards the door.  Once there was no danger of his being seen, Severus gave the girl an approving nod before turning to follow, tossing the tin of salve on her neatly folded robes on his way out of the room.

"My office, Mr. Malfoy, and do try to pull yourself together." 

"Pull myself together?"  Draco whirled around to gape at Severus.  "She was going to _kill_ me!"

"Of course she wasn't, dunderhead.  She was just trying to scare you."  He reached out, grabbed the boy by his shoulder, and turned him back around.  With a firm shove between the shoulders he sent Draco moving forward again.  "Besides, it wouldn't be possible for her to kill you with a blade in that room.  If she truly wanted to kill you she would have gone for her wand when your back was turned.  Or she may have throttled you; she's certainly strong enough to do so."

Once they were inside his office, Severus set a silencing spell and locked the door magically to prevent unwanted intrusion.  "Sit down, Mr. Malfoy."  He reached towards a small bell pull near his desk and tugged it.  In seconds a house elf appeared dressed in a Hogwarts pillowcase.  The elf bowed low.  "Tea, strong, and none of those silly biscuits and cakes you lot insist on putting on the trays."  The elf nodded and vanished as Severus leaned back in his chair and studied the boy on the other side of his desk.  

"Professor, what _was _all that?  Why's Granger down here in the dungeons slicing up make-believe Death Eaters?"

"I would have thought that was obvious, Mr. Malfoy.  The recent events in Miss Granger's life have left her deeply hurt and angry.  She's merely taking her aggressions out on inanimate objects rather than barging into the Slytherin common room and cursing everything that moves.  I would think you would be grateful for her restraint."

"Do the other teachers know about this?  Does McGonagall?"

"Yes, Minerva McGonagall is very much aware of her ward's extracurricular activities.  She doesn't entirely approve of them, but she is choosing to remain silent regarding the matter."

Draco's face was a study in different levels of shock and confusion.  Severus watched the boy shake his head to clear his thoughts before running pale hands through his hair.  "How long have you known about this, Professor?"

"I have been aware of Miss Granger's love for fencing for a few months now.  She only recently moved her activities to the dungeons."  The elf reappeared with a small silver tray holding a pot of tea and two cups.  There was no milk, no sugar and no biscuits.  Severus poured them each a cup of tea after the elf had left.  He offered one to Draco and did not comment at the expression on the boy's face when he took his first sip of bitter tea.  

"Why did you approach Miss Granger tonight, Draco?"  Snape's eyes watched as the young Slytherin gave a non-committal shrug.  "Come now, Draco.  You come across a room where a girl whom you have tormented and ridiculed for six years is practicing with razor sharp blades, and yet you still entered.  Why?"

Draco didn't answer.  Instead he stared into his dark tea. Severus set down his own tea and folded his arms atop his desk to lean forward.

"Mr. Malfoy, you have my word of honor as a Slytherin, as your Head of House and as your Teacher, nothing you say to me within this room will find its way back to your father.  You may speak your mind here and I will not hold it against you or think any less of you for it."

Draco looked up, his eyes wary but his expression mildly hopeful.  "I… I wanted to see if she was all right.  Stupid, I know.  I mean, how can she be all right?  Her whole bloody family was slaughtered and… and it was my fault."

"No."  Severus kept his voice firm and solid.  "That is where you are wrong.  What happened over the holidays was _not_ your fault, Mr. Malfoy.  You did not hold the wand that ended the lives of those people and you did not instigate those attacks.  As I recall it was your father who came up with that particular entertainment."

Draco shook his head.  "But he did it because of me, because I wasn't better than Granger.  He's always been after me to bring pride to the Malfoy name, reminding me that we are the best, but I could never beat her."

"So you're blaming yourself for your father's stubborn arrogance and idiotic pride?  That has nothing to do with you, boy.  Lucius Malfoy was that way long before you were born.  And don't look at me like that.  I've known your father since before I came to Hogwarts as a student and I know him better than anyone, probably even better than your mother.  If anyone can point out his faults, it's me."

A small smile tugged at one corner of Draco's mouth.  "Do you ever say things like that to his face?"

"Occasionally, when he becomes too much to bear.  He'll give me one of his most scathing looks and then storm off, but he calms down once he sees that I'm right."

"Sounds like an old married couple.  Not that I'm saying there's anything between you and Father!"  Draco added this last bit hastily as Severus glared at him with a look usually reserved for Gryffindors.  "I mean, I know Father experiments from time to time, but everyone knows that you stick to women."

"Then I will endeavor to forget you said such a thing."  Severus took up his cup again, watching Draco over the rim as he took a drink.  "Is there anything else that has been troubling you of late, Draco?"

He looked as though he was going to answer, then shook his head.  "It's nothing, sir."

"Nothing?  Concerns are rarely nothing.  They may be small, but they are still something.  We cannot be certain when you and I will have another opportunity to sit down and talk with one another in this fashion.  You might as well take advantage of the situation.  Is there a problem with your schoolwork or your classmates, perhaps?  Something you feel you cannot speak to your parents about but would like to have an adult's opinion, perhaps."

Draco toyed with his cup in silence, and then put it back onto the desk with shaking hands.  "I'm… I'm starting to have doubts, sir."

Severus' interest snared immediately.  "Doubts?  About what?"

"About… about everything, sir.  Everything I've ever been taught by my father."

"Go on."

Draco got up from his chair and shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked towards the fireplace.  "All my life Father has told me that to be a Malfoy was to be the best.  That to be a Pureblood was to be better than everything and everyone.  Half-bloods were inferior, Muggleborns are just barely above house elves and Muggles are lower than dirt.  I have had those lessons drummed into my head over and over again since I was in the cradle."

Severus leaned back in his chair.  "And now?"

"Look at this place!"  Draco turned his expression wide-eyed and torn.  "Look at the purebloods in my generation.  The majority of us are… off in some way.  Either they're physically repulsive in some way or mentally challenged.  And I'm not just talking about the others in Slytherin; I'm talking about all four houses.   But then I look at the half-bloods and the muggleborns, and it's all together different.  Name one muggleborn in this school who's in the bottom half of his class.  And Granger… " Draco trailed off with a sigh.  "Granger is the best of all of us.  Top of the class and with the power to back up her learning."

Snape nodded.  "And this makes you doubt the importance of being a pureblood."

"How can it not?  I look around at the students here and I honest cannot find one shred of proof that says I'm better than anyone else."

Severus smirked, a knot uncoiling in his belly.  "Congratulations, Mr. Malfoy.  You've learned to think for yourself.  I believe this calls for a bit of a celebration."  He rose from his chair and went into his private storeroom.  Tucked away in the back corner of the tallest shelf was a dusty glass bottle.  He retrieved it, wiping the cobwebs away with his hand as he returned to the room.  "You'll enjoy this; 1857 Chateau de Malfoy, from your family's vineyards in the south of France."

  


"1857?  Where did you get that?  How did you get that?"

Severus smirked as he uncorked the wine and set it on his desk to breathe while he procured glasses more befitting the vintage.  "It's the last bottle from that year.  Your father lost it to me in a bet just after I graduated from Hogwarts."

"I've heard Father talk about that year.  I've heard him complain about how nothing made from those vineyards since has measured up."

"He's right.  They've gotten close a couple of times, but they've never been equal.  Just imagine how jealous your father would be if he knew you got to partake in the last of it."

Draco's face split into a grin.  The sight of it struck something in Severus' heart as he realized it was the first genuine smile he'd ever seen the boy give.  

"Why do you say I've learned to think for myself, sir?"

"Because until now you've merely been parroting back whatever your father has told.  Before now you've never bothered to open your eyes and look around you.  The benefit of being sent away for your schooling is that it gets young children out from under the direct influence of their parents during the time when minds mature.  While parental guidance is good, it is also good for a young man to be allowed to make his own decisions."

"And what do you think about it?  About purebloods and muggleborns and all that?"

"What do I think?"  Severus set two crystal wine glasses next to the bottle and reclaimed his chair.  "I think that we have been blinded by our own hatred.  Like you I have noticed what appears to be a steady decline in the wizarding bloodlines and it concerns me.  I have also seen how wizards tend to forget all the accomplishments and conveniences in our world that are the creations and contributions of muggleborn wizards."

"So you don't think that purebloods are any better than muggleborns?"

They were treading on dangerous ground here.  If Draco was stringing him along, anything he said now would find its way back to Lucius.  On the other hand, he doubted that Draco had the finesse and skill required to deceive him.  "I think that we should not judge one another by bloodlines, but by personal merits.  I think that by discounting a witch or wizard because of a circumstance of birth is akin to hexing off your foot with your own wand."

The boy grinned again.  "You're right.  I could never talk to my father like this.  He would have cursed me a good five minutes back."

"One of the benefits of being without children of your own is that you can say anything you wish to them and you don't have to worry about the aftermath."  Severus picked up the bottle and began to pour the wine.  "You can also do things with them you wouldn't do with your own children.  For example, I would never give a sixteen-year-old son of mine wine, but I have no such qualms with you."

Draco accepted the glass, holding it up to the firelight to watch how the glow shone through the crimson fluid before sniffing it delicately and finally taking a tentative sip.  Severus watched as the boy rolled that first taste on his tongue and smiled as he swallowed.  "Even better than I've heard.  No wonder Father misses it."

"Now, we come to a rather sticky question, Mr. Malfoy.  What are you going to do with your newfound intellectual freedom?"

Draco fell silent again, looking down at his glass.  "I… I don't know, sir."

"Have you given no thought to what you want out of life?  Do you plan to be a man of leisure or find a career?  Do you have dreams of a quiet little cottage or to boot your parents out of Malfoy Manor and take it over?"

"I... I just know that I don't want to be a Death Eater."

Severus studied Draco closely.  The boy had yet to look up from his glass.  "And why not, Mr. Malfoy?"  He didn't look up, nor did he answer.  "I gave you my word, Draco, and I stand by it.  Nothing you say to me in this room will be held against your or find its way to your father.  Why don't you wish to take the Dark Mark?"

"Because… because I don't want to be reduced to a servant.  I see my father strut and crow about being this proud, powerful wizard and how being a Pureblood is all important, and yet he crawls on his belly to kiss the feet of a half-blood wizard who's warped himself into something more monster than man."  The boy rose suddenly to his feet, his glass clutched in his hand.  "I hear them get together, hear them laughing about the tortures and the rapes and the murders, and it all sickens me.  They go on and on about how great they are, how 'civilized', and yet they behave like animals!"

"And you do not wish to be brought down to their level."  The boy fell silent, his skin going paler than normal.  Severus reckoned that Draco had finally remembered the he, Severus, was believed to be a loyal Death Eater as well.  "It's all right, Draco.  You and I are alike, even as we are different.  You have become disillusioned with the reality that has been woven about you, as I was.  The difference is that for me the realization came far too late.  I had already taken the mark, and once you cross that line you cannot go back.  The only way to leave the Dark Lord's service is in a coffin.

"But you, you are still unblemished.  You can still walk away from all of this, though it would cost you dearly.  If you choose to refuse the mark your father will most likely disown you.  You will be cut off from his wealth and his influence.  Doubtless you will be forbidden to communicate with your mother and your housemates will probably turn against you.  You would be as poor as a Weasley, with no power or influence except that which you earn for yourself.  You'll actually have to put for an effort in life."

"I… I don't know if I could do that, sir."

"Oh, you are more than capable.  The question is do you have the determination to do it?  Unlike the purebloods that have caused this crisis of faith, you are intelligent.  You have the brains, but you've never had to use them, everything has always been handed to you.  I'm not here to spare your feelings, Draco.  You are a spoiled little brat and always have been.  Now you have the chance to become a man, but you're not likely to accomplish that in the shadow of your father."

"And if you had realized it sooner, when you were my age, what would you have done?"

Severus drained the last of his wine and set his glass down.  "I would have turned my back on the Death Eaters and made my own path.  I will not think any less of you if you choose to do so.  In fact, I would think even more."

Draco finished his wine and crossed back to the desk to return the glass.  "What do I do now?  Where do I go from here?"

"That is your choice, Mr. Malfoy.  I would recommend that you think things over, weigh your options carefully.  I am serious about the likelihood of your being disowned.  I cannot help you in this.  I am still bound to answer whenever the Dark Lord calls me, and if you come to me to help you escape your father and his plans for you, I may be forced to drag you back to the Manor.  There is only one person in this castle who has a chance of keeping you safe."

"You mean Dumbledore."

Severus nodded.  "I may not agree with the man and I may be here to report everything he does, but he is the only one who gives the Dark Lord pause.  He has kept Harry Potter safe for fifteen years; he can help you reclaim your life.  If you do not want to throw your lot in with the Death Eaters, then Albus Dumbledore is your best gamble at freedom."

Draco sighed and nodded.  "So it's either become a bleating sheep or walk the path of a martyr.  Bloody hell, that makes me sound like a Gryffindor."

"You're too intelligent to be a Gryffindor."

"Then explain Hermione Granger."

"Temporary insanity on the part of the Sorting Hat."  The tension eased up a little, enough that both Severus and Draco could give a slight grin.  "Consider all that you know and all that you think you know, Draco.  Consider everything, and determine where you want to be.  We Slytherins are supposed to be clever, cunning and ambitious.  You need to decide if you have enough of each of those traits to build a life for yourself if you walk away from this one."

"I understand, sir.  I'll think it over carefully."  Draco offered a lop-sided smile.  "Thank you, sir."

"Feeling a bit less confused?"

"More so, actually, but at least you've given me a map to help sort things out."

"Then you at least have a start.  It's getting close to curfew, Mr. Malfoy.  You'd best head back to your dormitory."

"Yes, sir.  Good night."  The boy turned and walked towards the door.  Severus dismissed the locking charm to let Draco out, then sat back to pour another glass of wine.

He had played a dangerous hand this night.  He felt it was unlikely that Draco was trying to trap him, but that wouldn't stop the boy from balking out of fear and reporting to his father anyway.  The future hinged on whether or not Draco was far enough along the path of doubts to push him away from the Death Eaters entirely.  He hadn't lied to the boy when he had said that he had also been disillusioned, but far too late in life.  Severus would have given almost any price to turn back the hands of time and undo his mistakes in life, to have never taken the Dark Mark.  He would have dearly loved to have what Draco had now, the intelligence to see past the lies and the prejudices before he had gone too far to back out.

Now it was up to Draco.  Severus only hoped that the boy would make better choices than he had.


	6. Chapter Six

Snape waited patiently at the train station in Hogsmede. The crisp air tugged at his robes as it carried the scent of coal to his nostrils. The fragrance matched the sounds of the train as it arrived. He scanned the passengers as they began to step out of the cars. His target was not hard to spot.

With strong, sure steps he walked through the crowd and came to a stop in front of a short, Asian man with a wizened face. Respectfully, he bowed. "Master Takehito. I am Professor Severus Snape. Please allow me to extend Hogwarts' warmest and most sincere welcome. We are honored to have you join us."

The man returned the bow. "Thank you, Professor Snape. I must admit I am looking forward to seeing your venerable school. Hogwarts is a legend, even in Japan." Both men straightened up. Severus levitated his guest's luggage and sent it before them to come to rest on the roof of the carriage as they walked down the path to step inside.

They rocked gently inside the confines of the carriage on their way to the castle. Takehito looked out the window at the passing terrain with interest. "I am curious, Professor, about your invitation. The request you make has not been done in many centuries."

"No, it has not. However, these are extraordinary circumstances."

Takehito turned away from the window to look at Snape. "But surely in this modern age, such heroes are outdated and past their time."

"As a needed commodity, yes. But I am not thinking of forging a hero. In this particular situation, I feel that this would be the best way to pull the young lady in question back from the edge of the abyss."

"The abyss?" The elder man smoothed out the fine, colorful silk of his robes, their style so vastly different from British wizards. "You think her in danger of going mad?"

"I think her in danger of letting sorrow and grief eat away at her soul."

"Ah. An event that can only lead to two possible outcomes. Suicide or a decent into darkness."

Snape nodded in agreement. "The first would rob the wizarding world of one of the finest minds and budding young powers that it has seen in decades. The second would create a monster potentially more dangerous than the Dark Lord himself."

Takehito smiled. "And so, you seek to save this young woman from herself, and in the process, create something useful of her."

"The foundation was laid long before I knew her. I am merely building on what is already there and directing her pain down that path." Snape noted that they were reaching the end of their trip. "I am curious; knowing that the Enforcers are no longer allowed, why did you accept my invitation?"

Takehito's smile widened. "For the sake of the sword, Professor Snape. I have always wanted to try making that particular type of weapon."

The school included a blacksmith's forge, though it had not been used in a very long time. The house elves had worked diligently to clean away the cobwebs and debris. It was stocked with the raw materials needed and well ventilated to make it comfortable. The suite of rooms nearest it had also been scoured and made habitable once more. Takehito seemed pleased by the warm, inviting colors and the cheery fire in the hearth that chased away the cold bite of the late winter day.

Snape took his leave, allowing his guest to get settled in. They agreed that Miss Granger would show Takehito around the school after the evening meal, allowing the sword smith to get to know her better. He said it would help him better understand the type of blade that she would need.

* * *

The following morning Hermione appeared at their dungeon practice room before the start of breakfast. Her usual appointment time on Sundays, and she was punctual as ever. He found her doing her stretching as he entered. "None of that today, Miss Granger."

A confused frown met his gaze. "We aren't practicing today?"

"No, we are not. There is a potion that needs to be brewed. Put your clothes on and follow me." He waited for her to pull the jeans and sweater over her workout clothes before sweeping out of the room and leading the way to the private work room connecting to his office.

His cauldron was waiting, along with containers of the ingredients he would need. Hermione, knowledge always superceding her confusion, peered through the glass of each jar intently, hands clasped behind her back. Severus stood there and watched her in silence, taking his usual inventory since that night. Still getting thinner, but not at the rate she had been. She was eating, but still not enough. The lack of proper nutrition was starting to show in her hair and nails, both of which are becoming brittle. He would start her on a vitamin potion to make up what she wasn't getting through meals.

Hermione straightened up, the jar of dragon heartstring in her hands. "This is quite a bit. Are we going to use it all?"

"Yes, we are." He picked up a silver pitcher and poured a measure of water into the cauldron before starting the fire. "Tell me, Miss Granger, how much history have you studied?"

"Quite a bit, but there is a lot yet I don't know. What part of history do you mean?" She set down the dragon heartstring and watched him.

"The so called 'Dark Ages'. Shortly before the Inquisition got into full swing. There was a rather small and elite group of wizards and witches known as Enforcers. Have you studied them?" She shook her head, clearly interested. "Yes, well, start powdering the unicorn horn and I will endeavor to impart some bit of new knowledge to you."

She opened the vial containing a few precious bits of unicorn horn and poured it into a mortar bowl. He watched as she picked up the pestle and started to grind the hard bits. It would take some time to powder it fully. Severus nodded in appreciation of her method and continued.

"Enforcers were usually powerful witches and wizards in their own right, but in those times class and birth were still the driving factors when it came to how well you lived or how successful you were. A young witch born into a poor family would likely be poor all of her life, struggling to survive, not even knowing where her next meal would come from at times. It was highly unlikely that she would be married to a high-ranking wizard, as they would stick to their own kind. But, if she had the mettle for it, she could find a position in a household as an Enforcer."

"But what, exactly, was an Enforcer?" She shook the mortar a bit to reposition the now smaller bits of horn amongst the powered horn before starting again.

"And Enforcer was both wizard and warrior. They were trained in both magic and in the use of a sword. If the witch was good enough to be an Enforcer, then a wealthy wizard or witch might sponsor them. This meant a solid roof over their heads, a warm place to sleep at night and a proper sword. They might still carry a wand, but the sword was their true weapon. Now, add the powdered horn."

Hermione carefully added the powder from her mortar, taking care to tap the side with the pestle to knock free the last bits clinging to the smooth marble. "Magic swords?"

"Quite. The core of an Enforcer's sword was a braid of dragon heartstring that had been soaked in a potion containing the soon-to-be Enforcer's blood. A truly skilled sword smith would fold the metal around the core, and then continue to forge and hone the blade about it. The magical core turned the sword itself into a wand, a sort of extension of the Enforcer himself. But there is a price to be paid."

Hermione had picked the jar of heartstring back up, the reason for her being here clearly settling in. "What price, Professor?"

"To activate the bond between witch and sword, and oath of loyalty had to be taken. Usually to the Enforcer's sponsor. The benefits in increased power alone were great, but if that oath were ever broken, the Enforcer's sword would shatter, taking the witch's power with it. The witch would have no more magic than a common Muggle."

Brown eyes looked up at him. "What brought this up, Professor?"

Snape came around the worktable to stand behind her. He leaned down to speak close to her ear as he reached out and took the jar from her hands. "Because, as clever and powerful as you are now, Miss Granger, you are not strong enough to take on more than one or two Death Eaters at a time. Revenge is driving you, but it will end up getting you killed because it will make you do something stupid and foolhardy. What I am offering you is the change to increase your power. To turn yourself not only into the most powerful witch of the age, but the most powerful weapon for good that we could hope for. I'm offering you the chance to obtain the power and strength to take your vengeance out of their hides."

She was silent for a long time, looking over the ingredients and to the cauldron. "Who… who would my oath be made to?"

Something inside him relaxed. He straightened up and unscrewed the lid of the jar. "I had considered the Order, but giving your oath to a body of people would likely keep you bound to them until you finally succumbed to old age. I, however, am far older than you and will likely die when you are still relatively young. And therein lies the reason why the Enforcers are, technically, illegal." He removed the heartstring and laid it in front of her. "Start braiding that."

He set the jar down and wiped his hands clean on a nearby towel as he walked back behind the cauldron. "An Enforcer who breaks her oath loses her power. An Enforcer whose sponsor dies does not. A rare few went bad. Bad enough that the wizarding world began to fear them. Bad enough that to even forge the blade for an Enforcer is made illegal. You won't find the names of those rare few linked with the practice. History has been rewritten to exclude the fact that they were Enforcers and to prevent others from trying to follow in their footsteps."

Hermione's head was bent down over her task, her thin fingers taking care to keep the braid as tight as possible without tearing the thin strips of heartstring. "But if it is illegal, why do you even want to risk it?"

"Desperate times call for desperate measures, Miss Granger. And these are desperate times. Besides, it's not as though you haven't broken rules before when the occasion warranted it." He smirked as she paused in her braiding. She resumed just as quickly. "The question is, do you have enough trust in me to take the oath. Can you trust me enough to pledge your unerring loyalty on penalty of being rendered powerless should you fail to keep that pledge?"

Hermione finished the braid and looked up at him. Severus kept his gaze steady and uncompromising, thinking how it seemed he could almost see the wheels of her mind turning behind those large, whisky colored eyes. After several long moments, she nodded. "I trust you, Sir."

"Good." He held out his hand to her. "Give me your wrist." She placed the slender part of her arm in his hand so that he could pull it over the simmering cauldron. Taking a silver knife, kept to surgical sharpness and cleanliness, he made a quick slice into her skin. She drew in a quick breath, but didn't pull away as he turned her wrist over and allowed her blood to flow into the potion. The unicorn infused liquid swirled as it mixed with the blood, turning from an opalescent sheen to rose-colored concoction tinted with iridescent hues.

He released her hand, offering her a clean cloth to press against the cut to stem the flow. With quick, practice movements he added the last few ingredients before holding his hand out for the braided heartstring. She placed it into his hand and he added it to the cauldron before dismissing the flames underneath.

"How long does it need to soak, Professor?"

"At least one month." He began leaning up his workspace. "I believe that Master Takehito would like us to join him for breakfast in his suite this morning. We are fortunate that he has agreed to come here, Miss Granger. He is taking a great personal risk to forge your blade. It would appear that he, like you, enjoys a challenge and is willing to do it for the sake of his art."

She nodded. "He was very nice, when I took him around the castle."

"He is a powerful wizard and highly respected in certain circles. But he has not let his station go to his head. Like Albus Dumbledore, he has remained approachable. Go to his suite. I will join you there shortly. It would not do for us to be seen together too much. There might be… rumors."

Hermione nodded in understanding and got up from her seat. He watched her as she left the workroom. That went far better than he had anticipated. Pleased with how this was all going, he put the jars back up before locking his workroom and turning to head down the hallway. A voice calling out to him stopped him. He turned to see Draco approaching. "Something the matter, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco stopped before him, shaking his head. "No, Professor. I… I was just wondering if Hermione was down here. She wasn't up at breakfast with the rest of the Gryffindors."

Clearly guilt was still eating away at the boy. "No, Mr. Malfoy, she is not here. Might I suggest, however, that you curb your interest in Miss Granger as long as you are still living within the Slytherin dorms? It would not do for you to draw any… unwanted attention to yourself."

The boy swallowed and nodded. "Yes, Professor. I'll keep that in mind. Sorry to have bothered you."

Severus watched as the teen turned and walked away, hands shoved into his pockets. Internally he sighed. It looked as though Mr. Malfoy's feelings of guilt were starting to reassign themselves into the beginnings of misplaced romanticism towards his protégé. He certainly hoped that was not the case. Teenage hearts were tricky things to manage.


End file.
